Editor’s note: The text of `Being Frank’ reproduced here is the previously unpublished version of Frank Watters’ intended alterations to the 1992 edition, published by Askew’s of Doncaster, should a reprint have ever occurred. Given the very high sales of the first edition, Frank did not seek a second edition and the 1992 edition is now completely out of print. His family now possesses only a handful of mint copies and has decided to place this electronic version in the public domain, in memory of a great humanitarian and as a contribution to the recording of working class history.

Some minor technical alterations were also necessitated by reproduction in this format. Where significant changes, occasioned by the passage of time, have occurred (e.g. clarifying the denoting in the present tense in 1992 of a certain circumstance), an editorial note has been inserted. Frank Watters died in 2002 and a 5,000 word potted biography on him can be found elsewhere on the site, in the Communist biographies section.

Contents

i) Sponsors of the 1992 edition

ii) Forward: by Arthur Scargill, President NUM

iii) Introduction: by Frank Watters

iv) Prologue: by Jack Adams, Deputy General Secretary T&G

v) The NUM’s submission to the TUC nominating Frank Watters for the gold badge

Frank Watters has been my friend for nearly 40 years — ever since the days when as an eager youngster to help change the world I joined the Young Communist League. His optimism and faith in humanity are as fierce today as when I first met him (and everyone who has been taught by Frank or worked with him knows how exhausting that ferocity can be!). His commitment to Socialist ideals has made him a virtual dynamo. He is a truly ruthless campaigner, but he has never asked of anybody what he is not prepared to give himself.

Frank’s life story is inseparable from the history of the British trade union and Labour Movement. Nobody has given more than he to the key industrial struggles of our time. Nobody has worked harder to build the forces which brought real trade union advances and hope for the future in the sixties, the seventies and through the mid eighties.

Our entire movement owes Frank so much — even this book, his own story (thus far!) doesn’t give the full picture. But it is important that he has written it, and put his interpretation of the events in which he has played such a vital role. There may well be disagreement with his view on certain things; that’s fair enough. What matters is that here we have a contribution to the history of the British working class from a key participant in the making of that history.

There is nobody quite like Frank Watters. Long may he continue to agitate, educate and organise amongst us.

Arthur Scargill – 1992

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Introduction by Frank Watters

Many of my friends and my daughter Lesley have requested that I write my memoirs. Now that the Communist Party of Great Britain, which I joined in

l938, has left me, and many others, I am at liberty to be frank, informative and constructive. To show how the dissolution of the Party and the creation of the Democratic Left is the final act of the “New Realists” who effectively ended up compromising with capitalism, as they used the Party’s theoretical journal “Marxism Today” to reject the Party’s programme, the “British Road to Socialism”.

I am, maybe, in a better position than most to justify such accusations as the cradle of new realism was built in the Midlands in the l970s when I was District Secretary.

Some friends say they feel sorry for comrades like me who have given all their adult lives to the movement only to see not only the dissolution of the CPGB but also the disintegration of the Soviet Union and the collapse of the revolutionary Bolshevik party.

Was it all worth it? The answer is yes. It was never just about being a member of any particular political party. It was about being a part of a much wider

movement the aim of which was, and is, to end the heartless, soul-less system of capitalism and replace it with one which cares for human dignity, the main object of which is to provide greater material and cultural satisfaction for those who actually produce its wealth. I am proud to have been associated with such worthy aims and the generation of comrades I have worked with for over 50 years have nothing to be ashamed of.

Many of the early memories are bitter. A childhood spent in poverty, deprivation and victimisation provided the spur which drove many of us on to work to change that system and eradicate its evils. That task is still there. Even as I write these words in the last decade of the twentieth century we are witnessing the revival of pawn shops, and some of the bitterest of those childhood memories come back to haunt me.

Memories of a mother worn down and wasted by a lifetime of constant unrelenting toil, just to scrape a bare existence for herself and her family; of ridicule and punishment at school because there were no proper boots or clothes to wear. Of victimisation at work because of the long memories of employers who exacted their revenge on the children of men who dared to defy them in the l926 strike. Of men and boys bleeding and broken in accidents at work and being refused proper medical treatment because it cost too much.

While ever there are such divisions in society new generations of fighters will emerge to carry the standard on behalf of their class as I have been proud to do. I hope my memories will prove instructive to such fighters by demonstrating what can be achieved.

I hope, too, that they will provide a warning that such advances as we are able to make on behalf of our class must be jealously guarded because the attacks of the ruling class must, by the very nature of the system, grow ever more oppressive.

Frank Watters 1992

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Prologue

“Frank goes for Gold”

By Jack Adams Deputy General Secretary T&G

I am proud to associate myself with the NUM’s nomination of Frank Watters, one of a handful of its honorary members, for the TUC’s highest award, the Gold Badge.

I don’t envy the selection panel its task of choosing from so many worthy candidates for this award. After reading “Being Frank” I can’t think of many who have given to the Labour and Trade Union Movement such passionate involvement and commitment in creating a more socially just society. Never mind Frank, history will reward you, with or without the Gold Badge.

The NUM’s submission to the TUC nominating Frank Watters for the gold badge

Frank Watters’ life-long political activity has not been confined to any single union but has embraced many unions and community organisations. He has consistently campaigned against racism and religious sectarianism, and for world disarmament and sexual and racial equality. He has successfully applied this philosophy in all areas of his activities, political, cultural and social.

Working in the Midlands in the 1970s he was Secretary of the Star Social Club which united the diverse communities of Birmingham in cultural and political activities. The Club bridged the gulf between those communities with popular weekly concerts featuring prominent singers and musicians and a reggae disco which united black and white youth. The Club also provided a forum for all forms of political debate and a strike centre which provided vital resources for workers in struggle. Among those who benefited were the steel workers, the Fire Brigades Union, health workers and construction workers.

It also provided an organisational base for a wide range of political campaigns like the ones over the sacking of Longbridge shop steward Derek Robinson, the release of the black American civil rights campaigner Angela Davis, nuclear disarmament, women’s rights, the people’s march for jobs and an ongoing dialogue on Marxism and Christianity.

The Club became particularly renowned for the vital role it played in the now historic “Battle of Saltley Gate” during the 1972 miners’ strike, providing a base, food and accommodation as well as political guidance for the hundreds of disparate groups which were welded together in that famous campaign.

Frank’s ability to unite all these groups and individuals with widely differing political and ideological philosophies and to win them over to a non-sectarian approach was recognised by Canon Bryan Green, Rector of Birmingham’s St Martin’s in the Bull Ring Church, who invited him to share the platform with Bishops and Archbishops when he held a service to celebrate his retirement from the Church.

Left: a brochure in which Frank Watters is advertised as `preaching’ at the church

Taxed by the media on why he had allowed a non-believer to desecrate his pulpit, Canon Green replied that Frank had earned his respect for his ability to unite those diverse communities and to find common ground within their different philosophies in the greater causes of peace, non-sectarianism and anti-racism.

Frank was born into the Scottish mining community of Shotts in Lanarkshire. His father, a militant with an Irish rebel background, was victimised after the 1926 strike and was unemployed until 1938. His mother bore the main responsibility of raising seven children of whom Frank was the second youngest.

Poverty and illness were no strangers to the mining communities of the hungry thirties and Frank’s father’s political and industrial activities played a major part in preventing him from getting a job in the privately owned mines when he left school. Poverty, like racism, can have an isolating effect at school and afterwards and Frank certainly suffered from its effects in the tightly-knit Catholic community of Shotts.

He joined the Scottish Mineworkers’ Union in 1935 and was soon involved in the fight for adult rates at the age of 18, day release for apprentices and more health and safety provision for young miners. He was involved in the formation of the Scottish Young Miners’ Youth Committee, attended NCLC and other socialist educational facilities and was a regular student at the Scottish miners’ annual school, winning places to colleges like Beatrice Webb and Ruskin.

He left Scotland in 1953 and settled in Yorkshire, playing a role in winning a National Power Loading Agreement, helping to unify all British miners engaged in this new type of mining, and in the campaigns for a National Concessionary Coal Agreement and shorter working hours for surface workers. He was also active in the campaign to end low tonnage rates in which `take up’ was negotiated with the miners and deputies but where payment was left to the discretion of the management.

In the mainstream political arena he played an important part in the election of Nye Bevan as Labour Party Treasurer and won campaigns for progressive candidates at local and area levels of the Yorkshire Area NUM and as union-sponsored candidates in parliamentary elections.

His innovative style also resulted in a cultural breakthrough when he helped to get the socialist black American singer Paul Robeson to the Yorkshire mining communities.

In 1968 Frank left Yorkshire for the Midlands where he was soon involved in the steel workers’ strike, organising accommodation and support groups. Birmingham and the Black Country were decisive with their massive steel warehouses and private steelworks.

Wherever workers were in struggle Frank’s organising ability was brought to bear, in the fire brigades, health workers, seafarers and ambulance workers’ disputes.

Back in Yorkshire in the 1982 health workers’ dispute, he brought the four unions involved together and won them unlimited support and days of action by Yorkshire miners. He was involved in raising over £36,000 for seafarers’ hardship fund during their dispute. He played an important role in uniting NUPE and COHSE workers, winning a dispute over the sacking of a NUPE steward.

Ambulance workers recognised Frank’s unstinting efforts on their behalf when, at a Barnsley Labour and Trade Union social, they presented him with a brief case inscribed: “Presented to Frank, Watters for his unyielding efforts during the ambulance dispute, 1989/90. From all staff at Barnsley, Hoyland and Penistone Ambulance Stations.”

In 1987 Frank was made an Honorary Member of the National Union of Mineworkers in recognition of his life-long service, but especially for his crucial roles in the 1972 strike and the battle for Saltley Gate, his work in the 1984/85 miners’ strike and his efforts to counter the formation of the UDM which were instrumental in the formation of the loyalist Nottinghamshire and South Derbyshire NUM. The Midlands Area NUM also marked their appreciation of his efforts in 1972 with the presentation to him of an inscribed miner’s lamp.

Pic: Honorary NUM membership card awarded to Frank Watters

In this the 20th anniversary year of the Battle of Saltley Gate it is perhaps an appropriate time to recall how that epic struggle was won, thanks to the organisational abilities of people like Frank Watters, which culminated in Birmingham’s engineering and construction workers leaving their factories and building sites in their thousands to close the coke depot gates for good.

Frank has written and lectured on the efforts that went into winning that struggle with its historic demonstration of solidarity and the power of ordinary working people united in a common cause. He now says he is proud to have been in the right place at the right time with the hard-earned respect of key workers who were able to deliver that crucial support and solidarity.

There are many worthy candidates for the award of the TUC Gold Badge, the highest reward we can offer for services to our class. We are proud to nominate Frank Watters, confident that his record of almost 50 years’ service to that class in the pursuit of greater material and cultural satisfaction for those who produce the wealth of our nation speaks for itself.

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Chapter 1

“We may be poor, but you are not going to be a slave” — The school of hard knocks and my early days.

Shotts is a former mining town in Lanarkshire, half way along the Glasgow Central-Edinburgh Waverley railway line. In its heyday it was an important power house of the Industrial Revolution with over 20 coal mines, iron works and foundries. Cast iron lamp posts proudly bore the name of Shotts to every corner of the globe as the tentacles of Victorian imperialism reached out to wherever the map was coloured pink. It’s all gone now.

In common with countless other areas throughout Britain, where the old staple industries have been annihilated by the ruthless ascendancy of the accountancy profession in the nation’s boardrooms, Shotts has been reduced to a shadow of its former self. Where once the tall chimneys belching their black smoke across the moors were a sign that men were at work making things, towns like Shotts have been reduced to providing dormitory facilities for their bigger neighbours; in the case of Shotts it is Motherwell which dominates the local economy. Shotts still has one industrial plant left — the Cummins diesel engine factory — but far more significant as local employers of those who are able to find work now are the “service industries” of a large mental hospital and a modern prison which boasts a title-winning football team which unfortunately is unable to play away fixtures! The Edinburgh-Glasgow M8 Motorway runs nearby but, perhaps symbolically, it, too, bypasses the town as almost everything else has since the onset of its industrial decline.

Shotts has had its share of famous sons and daughters. Dr Margaret ‘Peggy’ Herbison, a miner’s daughter and a former North Lanark MP, was member of Harold Wilson’s government and served in the Scottish Office and the Ministry of Social Security. On the other side of the political divide, John MacGregor started out from Shotts to rise to the upper ranks of the Tory Party, holding posts in the Thatcher and Major governments. The son of a local doctor, he began his education at Shotts’ Dykehead Primary School, as did Peggy Herbison. Peggy turned down the chance of going to the House of Lords. She occupied the Office of Lord High Commissioner of the Church of Scotland and during the Assembly she resided at Holyrood Palace. Afterwards she gave her Report to the Queen.

In mining areas it is often said that if a football team is short of a player all you have to do is holler down the nearest pit shaft and Shotts was no exception. Amongst others, it produced Alan Morton of Rangers, WilIie Telfer of Motherwell, and the same club’s Willie McSeveney and Bobby Hunter. John McSeveney played for Sunderland, Phi! Watson went to Blackpool while many others stayed with the Scottish Leagues. Jimmy Traynor and Freddie Westbrook played for Hibernian, Alex King for Hearts, Celtic and Rangers, Archie Hastie for Partick and John Wood of Clyde, Phil Watson of Airdrie, WilIie Hannah and Willie McClure of Albion Rovers and Preston North End, all came from the town. Jackie McCreary (Bury, Chester and Falkirk) won an Irish FA medal with Derry City and was coach for our own Shotts Bon Accord team. But while these and many others got away to find fame and, sometimes, fortune for those they left behind the spectre of hardship and poverty was never far beneath the surface.

Even when Shotts enjoyed its boom years when the world could not get enough of its coal’ and iron there was a heavy price to be paid in pollution, the industrial ravaging of the landscape, poor health and mortality rates, exploitation and poverty, and, as ever, it was the working class who had to pay that price. Perhaps it is not surprising, therefore, that Shotts threw up its share of political leaders and trade union activists.

The Shotts and Blantyre miners were always in the forefront of the defence of the Scottish mining communities and among the legendary miners’ leaders who graced platforms at political meetings in the town were people like Abe Moffat, Bill Pearson and Arthur Horner. Shotts-born Mick McGahey was President of the Scottish Miners’ Union, Vice President of the National Union of Mineworkers and a former Chairman of the Communist Party.

In the Depression years and especially after the 1926 strike, the miners who packed the halls and miners’ Welfares to hear them speak knew they could expect nothing from the avaricious coal owners so they supported their own welfare schemes with penny-a-week funds, and they subscribed to the town’s five bands. The Shotts and Dykehead Caledonian Pipe Band one year won the World, European, British, Scottish and Scottish miners championships.

Though they were obliged to depend on each other for mutual support, the community was fundamentally divided on religious grounds. The railway bridge at Shotts Station was the demarcation line with the Catholics dominating the Stane area of the town and the Protestants forming their own enclave in Dykehead. It was into this divided and dispossessed community that I was born in a miners’ row on Christmas Day 1920. The sixth of seven children, a younger sister was born four years later, I was to know little but grinding poverty and injustice for the first 30 years of my life. My grandparents, of whom I knew very little, had fled starvation poverty levels in Ireland only to find a different version of the same injustice working for a pittance in the Shotts Iron and Coal Company.

Pic:

The young Frank with his mother

My Mother, known by her maiden name, Kate Doyle, knew nothing but toil and struggle keeping the family together all her life. Father, Patrick “Paddy” Watters was a miner, but his political awareness was already stirring long before I was born. He had been greatly influenced by the Irish leader James Connolly and John McLean, the Marxist, anti-war schoolmaster, who was appointed by Lenin as the first diplomatic representative of revolutionary Russia to Britain. His political awareness led him inevitably to play a major role in the 1926 strike for which he was victimised, unable to find work again until 1938 on the back of the industrial expansion fired by the armaments build up to the Second World War.

The house I was born into had two rooms. The front room had a wash up sink, an iron oven and coal fire, a set-in bed where my Father and Mother slept; attached was a small “hole in the wall” bed and in the back room two large iron beds that occupied the entire floor space. Accommodation was, to say the least, basic. Domestic plumbing did not exist and there was no water flush lavatory, the families in the row sharing the use of a midden at the back. What lighting there was came from by paraffin lamps and of course there was a coal fire, which was used for cooking as well as warmth but the problem was there was rarely any coal for those who actually dug it out of the ground.

The main fuel we used was ‘mud’ – a sulphurous mixture of coal slurry and dust and my first brush with the law came when I was twelve years old, appearing in Court after being caught by the Colliery bobby picking coal from a slag wagon used for making bricks. In such circumstances of grinding poverty and deprivation, it is perhaps not surprising that youngsters learned quickly to survive on their wits and to keep a wary eye open for the main chance whenever an opportunity presented itself to turn the odd copper or two.

I was no exception and enjoyed one advantage over many of my contemporaries in that I had a mentor, Davey Gilfillin, pumpman at the pit and a neighbour of the family. I had been seriously ill as an infant and Davey took me under his wing. Davey kept greyhounds and we spent many an hour with them on their regular exercise walks, he often carrying me on his back. This relationship provided another benefit. I could always depend on Davey for a square meal on a Sunday. He would stew up a sheep’s head and, after he scraped the grey scum off it, we would feast on what we picked from the bones. It was hardly Haute Cuisine but it was nourishment of a sort-when there was precious little of it to be had. It had to be eaten in Davey’s house, though, because it turned the stomachs of the rest of the family, but I enjoyed the sensation of a full belly unknown to most of my mates.

Pic: Frank’s father, Paddy, his elder brother, John, as a baby and his Uncle Mick.

Another advantage of this partnership was that we enjoyed each other’s confidence, to the extent that by the time I was about twelve years old I was entrusted with the task of taking the dogs down to the track to race. Of course there were ways and means of ensuring that the dogs tried a hit harder in some races than they did in others and I was on my honour to tell no-one, not even my own father, when one of the dogs was due to perform. The first sign most of the punters had that one of them was trying was when they heard me shouting it home from the track rails. But Davey and I knew and, even if Davey did not dare back it, the ten shillings prize money provided a welcome boost since a bob or two of it usually went to me.

I also learned early on that pride could often stand in the way of a good opportunity. Some of the old ladies in the row enjoyed a surreptitious dram of whisky for medicinal purposes and it was my job to protect their reputations by collecting it for them from the pub. The coppers in the change were my reward for the performance of this valuable social service, just as they were when I ran regular errands to the pawnshop – a task that was beneath the dignity of many of the other lads. I swallowed my pride and built up a little nest egg. But the success was also to provide me with my first harsh lesson in the realities of commerce.

One year I had managed to save twenty-nine shillings in the corner shop Christmas Club – and this was at a time when a married man would get thirty bob dole money and two shillings a week for each child. I spent months planning how I would spend the money on unheard of Christmas gifts for the family, a new red sweatband for Davey and a football for myself. But when I went to draw the money on Christmas Eve the shopkeeper said: “I’m sorry, but your mother owes us so much on her grocery slate we are keeping your money to pay it off’. I was nearly in tears with frustration as I finished up on Christmas morning with the usual apple and orange in a silk stocking. I was bitter and angry too as I knew that my mother had never spent a penny of that money on herself but had had to run up debts just to keep the family fed.

pic:

Davey Gillfillin and the greyhounds

I often felt the same ‘bitterness, too, when the Priest made me confess in front of the whole school class that I had not attended Mass on Sunday. My mother was a devout Catholic but she often had to keep me at home on Sunday because I had no ‘best’ clothes to wear to Mass. Often my miserable school days were made worse, too, because I would be punished for arriving late. It made no difference to the teachers and the priests, who ran a tyrannical regime in the Catholic schools that the reason I was late was that I had to wait for a bus because I had no watertight shoes to wear when it was raining.

Tommy, my elder brother, often told the story of how he carried me on his back through heavy snow when I had just started going to school. The bus driver refused to take us because we had only one penny between us. That’s all my mother had that morning and the fare was one penny each. Both of us were in trouble when we arrived a good hour late.

But if I gained little from my attempts at scholarship, I was learning fast in other ways. A cold hearth at home, with uncomfortable beds and inadequate breakfasts, was not conducive to fruitful study but my father was a great reader and like others before I would collect his books for him from the library. I was also good at maths and put that aptitude to use helping my mother with her weekly budget, ensuring that Friday’s dole would see the family through until the pawnshop opened on Monday morning.

Then there was the school of hard knocks that, like the corner shop Christmas club incident, had a profound effect on me and my understanding of the world and its injustices. I did not leave school at 14 with the rest of my mates but stayed on for another six months because my father got an extra two shillings a week dole allowance. I eventually had to leave school to enable me to have more time to seek work.

Most of my schoolmates got past the vetting system operated by the Chief Clerk of the Shotts Iron and Coal Company and they were rewarded with jobs on the pit top. But the coal owners had long memories and a vengeful malice. To them the name of Watters was associated with the 1926 strike and the sins of the fathers were visited on their sons and there was no job for me.

I finally got a job working for a slave driver at a crushing plant where stone was prepared for road making. The job paid half a crown a day for a six a.m. start, until 4.00 p.m. working out in the open in the rain and the snow. I lasted two days before my mother refused to let me go again. “We may be poor, but you are not going to be a slave,” she said.

Eventually I did get a job at the pit where my elder brothers had managed partly to exorcise the curse of the Watters name by establishing a reputation for sheer hard work. They also managed to win the respect of their workmates through trade union activities and it was not long before I was following in their footsteps. Some of the older colliers had a slightly ambivalent attitude to my activities. While they felt obliged to acknowledge some grudging respect for my ability to work they were also sometimes resentful of my political activities and achievements.

This was a trait that I was to notice recurring throughout my life and on which I was often later to remark. When I had become recognised as a known figure in the Communist Party, there were many who would not have had anything to do with me because they were afraid of being tainted by my political allegiance; but most of them were to admit that I got the work done when it was most needed.

Left: a report in the Daily Worker, January 4th 1936, featuring the pits in Shotts. His brothers would certainly have been on strike.

Within a few months of starting at the pit I had my first accident. Working on a tramway underground, my job was to hook the coal tubs on to the haulage ropes and I got my foot trapped between the tub and a sleeper, badly injuring my ankle. I was off work for three weeks before I was hauled before the Compensation Tribunal, a panel of what the men called ‘quacks’; whose sole function was to determine how long an injured person should be allowed to have off work. They decided I had been off long enough and sent me back to work with a payment of £3.00. I took the cash because I realised my mother needed it but she called it ‘blood money’. Fourteen years later I had to have a major operation partially to repair the damage done by the initial neglect of my mutilating injury and I have had to wear surgical boots ever since.

At the age of 18 I joined the Young Communist League (YCL), later following my two elder brothers, John and Mick, into the Communist Party. A third brother, Tommy, never joined the Party but was a good supporter. Mention must be made here of John’s role in the local community. He was a ‘People’s Lawyer’, specialising in the cursed miners’ disease pneumoconiosis. When it was eventually accepted that it was an industrial disease thousands who had already left the pits totally incapacitated by it were denied compensation because they were classified as bronchial or emphysema cases, neither of which were attributed to working in the pits.

John took up their cases and fought for them through to medical tribunals where they were represented by the Union. He also tackled another problem which had its roots in the superstitions fostered by religious beliefs, especially among the Catholic community. They were told by the Priests that their bodies would rise up to rejoin their souls on the day of redemption and they were reluctant to allow what they saw as the physical mutilation of post mortem examinations. The Priests never faced up to this dilemma of their own making and many of their flock were thus denied their just compensation for, without an autopsy, the pneumoconiosis panel of doctors were unable to confirm the cause of death as an industrial disease.

John and Mick played a crucial role, convincing widows that there was no alternative to this expensive and traumatic procedure if they were to win any compensation. John the ‘Lawyer’ and Mick, the Union Branch Secretary, won thousands of pounds for new and old cases alike. John also held office as a parish councillor for a few years but the Cold War put an end to that. Everyone in Shotts said that if only the Watters were not Communists they would have gone places. We may not have reached high office in national or local government but, even if we were not accepted at the ballot box, we earned the respect and gratitude of the only constituency that really mattered to us — that of our peers in this mining community. John remained in the village until his death at the age of 72 in 1982.The whole village turned out, led by St Patrick’s Silver Band, for his funeral. It was a simple, heart-felt gesture, Shottsonians saying ‘Thanks, John’. It was the only reward he ever sought. He was one of Shotts greatest sons!

Two other brothers were NUM stalwarts; Mick became Branch Secretary of the Calder Head NUM branch and, when he married, left Shotts to live in Blantyre where he was welcomed and respected as much as he was in his hometown. He was elected Secretary of Blantyre Miners’ Welfare, where he had a reputation for being ruthless with any money defaulters. Tommy was known as ‘Big Tam’ and was regarded as a ‘brute’ worker; he never missed a shift even if he had had a good ‘skin full’ the night before, so prodigious was his strength. He was Secretary of the local quoiting club and, like brother Mick, was universally trusted, earning the affectionate nickname of ‘Big Honest Tam’. He died in 1987, two years after his wife, Susan and four years after my sister Chris. Mick, who remained a Party member all his life, died in 1994.

pic: Frank’s siblings: Tommy, Katy and Mick

Sadly, elder sister, Sal (who `mothered’ us all!) and my youngest sister, Katie, also both died in 1995. When we were all able to, the increasingly smaller Watters’ tribe enjoyed periodic ‘Meetings of the Waters’ – always warm and convivial gatherings. None of us ever lost touch with our shared heritage, our get-togethers always had an element of political discussion, as well as family matters. As I prepare this revised edition, I am the last of the dinosaurs, but I still keep in touch with my many nephews and nieces when I can. For, I have a strong sense that my background gave me no choice but to opt for the political life that I did.

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Chapter 2

Digging for Victory in war and peace.

At the height of the war the pits were working full out to fuel the allied effort and the miners made sure nothing impeded the fight against fascism. Every tub was filled for victory and we were campaigning for the second front to relieve the pressure on the Russians who were under siege. I was warned to watch my political activity as the manager and some right-wing union officials had noted I was beginning to have some effect on the men.

I ignored the warning and the management silenced me by simply closing the section of the mine on which I was working. All the men except four, including me, were redeployed. I won an appeal against my dismissal, but the management refused to reinstate me and the men were ready to come out on strike in my defence. But I persuaded them to stay at work, as I felt the coal was needed for the war effort and that was more important than my own job. Blacklisted by the local management, I set off in search of work elsewhere and finished up at Benhar Colliery, eight miles from Shotts.

It was there that, at the end of an exhausting shift, I was feeling the strain of my previously injured ankle and missed a stopper on the track that would have slowed the coal tub down. The tubs were normally fitted with rings to act as handles by which to hold them, but they often dropped off. Because of the war effort they were seldom replaced as the iron and steel was being poured into armaments and this tub had none, so I tried to slow it down by grabbing the top. But the tub accelerated away, reared up and struck a notch. My hands were smashed between the top of the tub and the roof.

I was sent home with a bandage wrapped round my smashed fingers and at four o’clock the doctor came and redressed my wounds. The dressing was inadequate and my mother had to wrap towels round my hands to stop my bedding being soaked in blood. The doctor gave me a note to go to the hospital and the following day I had to travel to Edinburgh by train. My old Uncle Mick accompanied me.

On arrival I was kept waiting for another four hours, because the hospital was understaffed. But I was eventually taken to a ward and then to an operating theatre, where I became a guinea pig for students who were treated to an object lesson in how not to deal with such injuries. Dirt had been left in the wounds and I was allergic to penicillin, which might have been used to fight the resulting infection. Added to that the delay in providing proper treatment meant there was nothing the surgeon could do beyond cleaning up the wounds and redressing them.

The local doctor was asked by my father why I had not been sent to the hospital earlier and he said he was under instructions from the pit ambulance committee, which was run by the wives of the colliery managers, to cut down on the number of ambulance trips to hospital because they cost thirty shillings each.

I was to pay the price of their parsimony for the rest of my life, as, after six months off work, I had to return to hospital to have my finger amputated. The coal company salved their conscience with a one-off lump sum payment of £50 and sent me packing, because my hands were no longer any use for getting coal for a considerable time.

It was 1944 and the wartime employment boom provided a boost for the construction industry. I found a job working as a timekeeper on a building site, later travelling to work on construction sites in various parts of Scotland and England but I missed home and the pit community and, after the Labour victory in the 1945 election, I went back to Shotts and volunteered to work again in the pits.

The euphoria of victory was short-lived. After their wartime alliance, which had been necessary to beat fascism, East and West were once again on opposite sides of the political fence with the Iron Curtain descending across Europe and the West cranking up the Cold War, which was to bedevil the world for the next 40 years.

The winter of 1947 saw a big freeze of a different kind with the worst weather on record. I had found a job at Calder Head pit in Shotts and the men were again breaking records in a productivity drive, this time fired by their enthusiasm for the Labour government’s pledge to nationalise the industry.

But their efforts were paralysed by several days of non-stop snow, during which nothing could move and the pits ground to a halt. The snow had stopped by Friday morning and the Union saw the pit manager to argue that the men should be allowed in to get their shovels and start to clear the drifts from the rail tracks, so that the pit could reopen.

The management were reluctant, because it meant paying time-and-a-half for Saturday and double-time for Sunday. But the Union argued that the coal needed to keep British industry working was more important than the pittance earned by the miners working at weekends. They prevailed in their argument and the colliery was working again by Sunday.

The alliance of the Labour government, with its promise of nationalisation, and the workforce who wanted only to see the back of the hated coal-owners then began to come under external pressure. The Daily Mail, which had shown a generation before that there were few depths to which it would not stoop with its scandalous Zinoviev telegram fiction, demonstrated that little had changed when it began a scurrilous campaign against Shinwell, the Labour Minister of Fuel and Power.

There was pressure, too, from the Americans, who made their Marshall Aid, on which the post-war reconstruction programme depended, conditional on the retention of six-day working in British pits. Western paranoia over the ‘Red Menace’ was cranked up another notch or two with massive Communist votes in Italy and France.

The miners won their five-day week but the victory was short-lived. Shinwell was moved from the Ministry of Fuel and Power and shortly afterwards the pits were back on an eleven-day fortnight. Stafford Cripps was another victim of Labour’s drift to the political right. That shift was accentuated with the election of Hugh Gaitskell as Labour leader after a meteoric rise, which saw him move from being a lecturer at Nottingham University in 1945, to the government front bench three years later. Two years after that saw the first massive wave of pit closures on economic grounds, a now familiar story which has been repeated with ever-increasing ferocity ever since.

Calder Head was one of those that closed and I moved to Greenrigg pit with two other brothers where I stayed until 1953, when I was requested by the Scottish Communist Party to become the Area Secretary for West Lothian. By then wages for underground workers were about £12 per week, a good deal better than the Party paid. But I had no hesitation and have never regretted opting for the job of full time revolutionary one bit.

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Chapter 3

“No, comrade — your turn will come.” Building up a fighting leadership amongst the miners.

February 1953 saw the commencement of my long political career when I was asked to bury my pick and shovel and take on the post as Communist Party Area Secretary, in West Lothian, Scotland. This was not an easy decision for me because, like most industrial workers, I was then normally very reluctant to put pen to paper. The thought of having to draft leaflets, election addresses, membership bulletins, learning to type, to keep accounts, speak at pithead and other public places, presented a nightmare. Also it meant at least 50% reduction in my income, if you were lucky enough to get the pittance a full-time worker was supposed to receive.

This didn’t worry me as I always put the Party first, but I was initially concerned in case becoming a professional revolutionary was maybe beyond my capabilities. All I can say is that this short apprenticeship of six months in West Lothian confirmed my belief in myself and the style of work I have always tried to carry out with honesty, conscious of one’s shortcomings, prepared to listen and take advice. Workers will forgive you for a multitude of mistakes. This was my experience in West Lothian and it helped me again reluctantly to accept that I leave Scotland and become Area Secretary in the South Yorkshire coalfield. This meant leaving home and my family. My Mother, who never objected to anything I did for the Party, was very upset and did everything to get the Party to reconsider its proposition.

The Party nationally and the Yorkshire District, especially the District Secretary Bert Ramelson, understood the political significance of the National Union of Mineworkers being won, or at least insulated, from the right-wing triple alliance of the Transport Workers, The Miners and the General & Municipal Workers. The Transport & General imposed bans on Communists holding office in the period from 1949 to 1968. The NUM dare not go as far because of the strong position the Party had in coalfields like Scotland, Wales, North Derbyshire and Northumberland. But anti-communist intolerance was demonstrated when Arthur Homer, the General Secretary of the NUM, was formally rebuked by his Union’s President, Will Lawther, for a speech in Paris in October 1948 which encouraged and supported French miners in the Communist-led CGT national strike against redundancies in their coal industry. From here on Homer was barred from making political pronouncements and at the ‘Big Meeting’ at the Durham Miners’ Gala separate platforms were erected when Clement Attlee, the Labour Party leader, and Arthur Homer were the guest speakers.

The anti-communist crusade of this triple alliance had to be broken before any thaw in the cold war could even be contemplated. This was the task the Yorkshire District Communist Party set itself in February 1953. This was their first priority, and what was needed was someone who understood how to communicate with miners and how to bring together a group of outstanding mining comrades scattered all over the vast coalfield of 150,000 miners in 130 pits. I estimate we had less than 100 miners in the Party membership with some influence in less than twelve pits out of a total Party of approximately 300 members covering the Doncaster, Worksop, Rotherham and Barnsley Areas. On the Area Council we had only three party members out of 136 delegates and only Tommy Degnan had the courage to challenge the right-wing leaders, Ernest Jones and Fred Collinridge. Tommy, veteran of the Spanish Civil War, was in constant conflict with the policies of the Yorkshire Area

leadership as it then was.

There can never be any question that it was the Communist Party that mainly made the challenge to the right-wing machine in Yorkshire and nationally. I moved to Yorkshire in October 1953 and by February 1954 we had the election for the President of the NUM, with Abe Moffatt challenging Ernest Jones. Moffatt polled 162,396 to Jones’ 348,391 nationally.

The Party had to carry out an independent campaign because there was no cohesive left organisation. We sold 6,000 of Abe’s pamphlets and over 2,000 copies of the Daily Worker special article by Abe on wages. Three hundred people attended a public meeting with Abe as speaker and we made 25 recruits to the Party during the campaign.

Following Jones’ election as National President there was a vacancy for Yorkshire Area General Secretary. The left candidate was Eddie Collins, a very close friend and ally of the Party, who was Compensation Agent; Eddie challenged Fred Collinridge who was Vice President, polling over 18,000 in a three cornered contest. This was 1,000 more votes than he had previously won as Compensation Agent, but Collinridge won.

This created a vacancy for Yorkshire Vice President. We had a long and serious discussion within the mining leadership to decide who should be supported for this position. There was a strong feeling expressed that a Party candidate would stand as good a chance as any of the lefts. Unanimously, we decided that Sam Taylor, always a great campaigner, should be the candidate. Forty-five candidates were nominated from 130 branches, but only eight were short-listed. By this time we were concentrating on selective localities with large branch memberships to ensure our candidate would be short-listed. Sammy got 13,000 against Bullough, the right-wing candidate, who polled 27,000.

The next time the position of Yorkshire Vice President became vacant was in 1961 when Sam Bullough was elected as President. This time our candidate was Jock Kane who polled over 23,000 votes, losing to Jack Leigh by 6,000. These two elections for Vice President in 1954 and 1961 highlighted the significance of the NUM’s transferable vote system. Sammy Taylor got 8,000 first preferences while Jock Kane got over 16,000 and led in the first round by nearly 1,500 votes. One of the problems we had was the division in the left, whereby we couldn’t get agreement on a single candidate, whereas the right wing with a strong grip in the West Yorkshire Coalfield supported only one candidate. Even so, this was a drop of 5,000 on Jock’s previous contest against Sam Bullough for Area President in the same year.

In my opinion the reason for this was that the election followed a disastrous strike on the issue of an increase in tonnage rates. Doncaster Panel, the joint committee of local branch officials, had discussed a resolution from Edlington for a substantial increase. Before Edlington was able to process their claim and get the backing of other pits within the Panel, Woodlesford, where Bob Wilkinson, a Communist, was delegate, “shot the gun” and decided to come out on strike over the same issue. The flying pickets arrived in Doncaster, where they knew no miners would cross the picket line. Unlike the later 1955 Armthorpe strike, which I shall come to in the next chapter, these events were not planned or properly organised.

In fact I was furious with Bob, and told him that he should have been consolidating his own area and then appealing for the support of others, especially Doncaster where the Panel supported the Edlington resolution. Instead, Woodlesford opted for the easy pickings, but, in the process, undid the years of work devoted to getting clarity along with the necessary preparation for an all-out coalfield strike. The outcome was disastrous. Pickets from Doncaster had to go into West Yorkshire, and then they were evicted by police, leaving Doncaster isolated and the Panel officials had to sign a settlement document. The whole thing resulted in more divisions between South and West Yorkshire miners.

Following his defeat by Jack Leigh in the election for Vice President, Jock said in a very angry tone, “Now forget about me, I am finished”. My reaction was, “No, comrade, your turn will come”. One year later the Area Agent for Doncaster died and Jock was elected. Then in 1966 he was elected as Financial Secretary and by this time he was a member of the NEC. So we had two leading Communists on the NEC and as Area Officials.

Sammy Taylor made the first major breakthrough for the Party by becoming the first Communist from Yorkshire to win a seat on the NUM National Executive in 1959. Also, by that time we had made big advances in our contacts, and with 30 pits we could now win nominations for our candidates. The election of Sammy to the NEC was a masterpiece of detailed organisation. Even Bert Ramelson, whom I am sure never wrote many congratulatory letters, expressed this in a personal letter to me.

Sammy had to win in the first round, for Sam Bullough was Vice President and one of the four candidates. If we did not win at the start the preference system would have worked in his favour. Thankfully, Sammy polled 1,319 votes in the first round against 1,279 for the other three candidates, winning by a majority of 40 votes.

The Party had grown from just around 300 in the South Yorkshire Coalfield in 1954 to 440 by 1960 in spite of the revelations of the 20th Congress of the CPSU, the Hungarian uprising and the ballot rigging in the ETU. Sammy’s election was but one magnificent repercussion from a style of work that placed Communists at the centre of things in the Yorkshire Coalfield.

The election of Sammy Taylor was not accidental. It was the result of years of work by the Party in the Coalfield, the union branches, sales of the Daily Worker at the pithead and above all, the growth of the membership over the period of 1954 to 1960.

South Yorkshire Coalfield Communist Party pit membership

Area Members No of pits covered

Doncaster 76 9

Worksop 20 5

Rotherham 20 5

Barnsley 15 4

West Yorkshire 6 1

By this time the Party had become an influential force. Also, we had developed many good non-Party contacts. We were now in a position to get nearly one-third of the branches to nominate any left candidate. That’s what won Sammy’s election to the NEC.

One feature I remember well about this election was the detailed monitoring of those Branches where we had a chance of winning the vote. On the Monday before the Tuesday noon voting deadline, I discovered that the Denaby vote had not been posted. They had 36 votes; without that vote we might well be required to go to a second round against Sam Bullough who was in a strong position to win as the sitting Vice President and with a very powerful right-wing machine behind him. The problem was two-fold. I asked myself: “Can I get the secretary of Denaby to agree to fill in the ballot paper for Sammy?”

The Committee had expressed support, but that was not yet endorsed by the general meeting. I spent over two hours, eventually convincing the Branch Secretary, Tommy Ryan, a Labour Councillor in Rawmarsh and a strong Catholic, to fill in the ballot paper with the branch stamp.

Now the problem was that all branch votes had to be in Barnsley by 12 noon the following day. In no way could I deliver it, or be seen putting it through the letterbox. Questions would be asked as to who delivered it, because Tommy had a meeting with the manager that morning. He had no transport, so it was impossible for him or another member of the Committee to deliver the vote. I phoned Eddie Collins’ brother Abe, whom we had supported when he was elected Area Agent. Abe was an ex-official of this branch, so he could find some excuse to visit Barnsley and hand in the vote.

Arrangements were made to meet him at a roundabout in Brampton, near Rotherham, at 8.00 a.m. and deliver the envelope. The votes were counted that day and Sammy got a telephone call to say that he had won by 40 votes. This meant Sammy was now in a position to sit on the platform at Area Council and give NEC reports. The Party had increased its representation on the Area Council from three to nine with many additional left delegates. Alwyn Machin by this time was exercising his authority as President and playing a very helpful and progressive role. He encouraged weekend schools and day release courses in Sheffield and Leeds. Many up and coming young branch officials, and, in fact, many current branch and Area Officials, benefited from this progressive venture. Machin was elected National President of the NUM with the highest vote in the history of the union but tragically he died on the day the result was announced.

There are very interesting lessons to be drawn. Before being elected, Machin was playing a much more progressive role, both on the NEC along with Sammy Taylor and in Yorkshire. Progressive resolutions were now appearing from Yorkshire on the Agenda of the NUM Annual Conference. For example, on the issues of periodic election of all officials, peace resolutions, support for Nye Bevan as Labour Party Treasurer, delegations to the Soviet Union, China and the GDR, and a delegation to France as guests of the French Miners in the CGT, which was affiliated to the World Federation of Trade Unions.

The most significant demonstration of international unity was on the issue of a reciprocal delegation from the Soviet Union. The Area E.C. recommended that this delegation be postponed because of the Hungarian issue. After a lengthy discussion on the Area Council, the E.C. Minute was rescinded by nearly a 2-1 vote. The Council then went on to invite the Soviet miners to attend their Gala.

Paul Robeson, the famous black singer, previously refused an invitation by Ernest Jones, was brought to Yorkshire. On a whole host of issues, such as Suez for example, Yorkshire under Machin was playing a much more progressive role. All I can say is, while we had not made a complete break from the past, at least the right-wing couldn’t automatically rely on the Yorkshire Miners’ vote any longer and the Party was a force to be reckoned with.

In such circumstances one would have thought the left would have given Machin a clear field over the right-wing candidate J.M. Southall, who later joined the National Coal Board. The other contenders: Bert Wynn from North Derbyshire, Jim Hammond from Lancashire and Willie Allan, originally from Scotland, but now Secretary for Northumberland all were ex-members of the Communist Party. Wynn was the first to be eliminated, but he had nearly 32,000 transferable votes to be distributed: over 13,000 went to Southall and less than 11,000 to Machin. Similarly when Hammond was eliminated, an anti-Machin factor in transfer votes emerged. Allan was still in the race for the final count, polling nearly 159,000 votes. Nonetheless, Machin was elected with 254,675 votes. What must be answered is why the so-called left never supported Machin. This I discovered later.

These three NUM Officials, who left the Party following the Hungarian issue, had been secretly meeting with other, Communist, Officials from South Wales, drafting policy documents, organising weekend schools and formulating left policies for the coalfield, without reference to the Party, the wider left or even the mass of the miners.

Involved in drafting these documents were members of the Communist Party who, nonetheless, accepted a written formulation that the CP in Yorkshire represented the “negative left”. That was the background to why Yorkshire CP members were excluded and not invited to weekend schools at Wortley Hall organised by the “Chesterfield Keep Left”.

This group mainly consisted of Bert Wynn, Jim Hammond, Willie Allan, and two Communist NUM Officials from Wales. Also involved were four university lecturers responsible for the extra-mural day-release students, a select few of whom were invited to join this elitist group. These students included Eric Varley, ex Labour Minister of State and now Director of Coalite. The main contact in Yorkshire was Barry Yates, a delegate from Rossington, a constant contender against Jock Kane. He never held any leading position in the Yorkshire NUM, because he was very impatient and in the end he opted out of the Union and joined the Coal Board as an industrial relations officer, never on the miners’ side! He and others were known as ‘The Goldthorpe Keep Left’.

The reason I am making reference to all this is to show that it was anti-communism that held back the development of a genuine left committed to change in the NUM. The left in the NUM and the broader labour movement paid a heavy penalty. If this group were so anxious to demonstrate that they could formulate left policies and win leading positions within the NUM, especially in Yorkshire, why put three of their candidates against Alwyn Machin, who had no connection with the Yorkshire CP? He represented nearly one-third of the NUM membership and was playing a progressive role both nationally and within Yorkshire.

Alwyn Machin’s untimely death was a serious set-back, but the field was still wide open for the left to build on the magnificent vote of Machin, provided they got their act together, selecting a candidate who would win the Yorkshire nomination.

Following Machin’s funeral a group of comrades met in Barnsley for a formal review of the situation. It was thought that Bert Wynn, Jim Hammond and Willie Allan were likely candidates. Alec Moffatt from Scotland and Les Ellis from Nottinghamshire, both members of the Communist Party, expressed their interest.

Now we had three ex-Communists, Wynn, Hammond and Allan, and two others, members of the Communist Party putting themselves forward. I was present at this discussion and I can honestly say there was no hostility to the three candidates that stood against Machin. The criterion we had to adopt was who among these five left candidates could win the Yorkshire nomination? Without it the left did not stand a chance.

The candidate who stood the best chance of winning the Yorkshire nomination was Alec Moffatt; the brother of Abe who was too old to be a candidate himself but who was well known in the Yorkshire coalfield. There was also the fact that a big contingent of Scots and Durham miners had been transferred to Yorkshire and they would campaign for Moffatt.

Sam Bullough, who was Yorkshire Vice President, was the natural candidate for the right wing to replace Machin. But, Sam was already in the contest for a more important position, President of Yorkshire Area NUM, especially with such a strong challenger as Jock Kane. So the right wing settled for Sid Ford from the clerical section of the NUM.

There were eight candidates nominated in Yorkshire, including Alec Moffatt and Sid Ford. Only Moffatt and Ford reached the final, resulting in Moffatt winning 1,293 votes against Ford’s 857 votes. Moffatt won nearly 50% of all Yorkshire branch votes.

Following this magnificent vote, Moffatt was a clear favourite if he had the backing of Yorkshire, Scotland, Wales and Northumberland. Approaches were made to the other left candidates to withdraw but with the exception of Willie Allen, they refused. So the election to replace Machin took place in mid-1960 with seven candidates.

The outcome staggered us all. Sammy Taylor was present at the count on behalf of the NEC. I spoke to Sammy that weekend and the coded version of the way the count was proceeding was: “The sun is shining and getting brighter”. Yes, it looked like a landslide with Moffatt leading by 23,000 votes over Ford in the first round, then going up to 24,603. But, there is an old adage: “Never count your chickens until they are hatched”. Yes, the chicken had come home to roost and what a shock.

The votes of the last candidate to be transferred were those of Les Ellis, with an accumulated total of 102,000 to be divided between Moffatt and Ford. Before this, Moffatt had a lead of 24,603, home and dry; but Ford got 62,219 as against Moffatts 27,635 votes from Les Ellis. Ford was elected with a 10,000 majority.

What a tragedy for the miners and the Labour Movement. A massive pit closure programme followed, carried out ruthlessly by two future Labour Lords, Robens and Mason. Paynter, like Horner before, became a prisoner identified with the butchering of the industry.

Ford’s victory also paved the way for Joe Gormley, who remained in office right up to the last day before retirement giving the right wing a 20 years stint. I often wonder what Joe must feel about his stubbornness and anti-communism, deciding to hold on to the end to prevent Mick McGahey getting another crack at the Presidency because of the age limit.

This cleared the way for Arthur Scargill to break the right wing mould and with an even larger majority than Machin – 138,800 votes against 58,496 votes for the other three candidates. I wonder if Joe regretted this, especially in later years when Mick’s relationship with Scargill showed some strain?

What happened in this election was unforgivable and the main culprits were the so-called “New Thinkers” around “Chesterfield Keep Left”, who were blind to the radical changes that were taking place in the Yorkshire Coalfield, with the CP in the forefront. At no time could we be labelled as a “Negative Left”.

There is another lesson to be drawn from this election and the 1971 Presidential election with McGahey and Gormley. On both occasions the left candidate came from the Scottish Area that was one of the smaller areas and losing members, where the Yorkshire Area was approximately one-third of the national membership and growing. The criterion we adopted in Yorkshire was support for the left candidate who could win the Yorkshire vote. Without that they were an also-ran.

The significant thing was that both Moffatt and McGahey got nearly 50% of branch nominations. In the 1971 Presidential election there were seven candidates contesting Yorkshire’s nomination, including Jack Leigh, Yorkshire Vice President, and Joe Gormley. Mick beat Leigh and earned the Yorkshire nomination.

By this time I had left Yorkshire to become Birmingham City Party Secretary. I was asked to come back and spend one month on this campaign. I was responsible for Doncaster, Worksop, Rotherham and West Yorkshire. Arthur Scargill, who gave Mick all possible support, covered the Barnsley area and delivered the votes. What upset me was I could not find the Party. Dave Priscott, District Secretary, I saw once when I arrived in Leeds. Vic Allen was in charge of the overall campaign and Mick, who visited Yorkshire during the campaign, never even made a phone call to see how the campaign was going. Maybe they all thought I didn’t need any consultation, but what was obvious to me was that not only had the Party in the coalfield disappeared but many of the “left” didn’t even want to be publicly identified with such a leading Communist. A well-financed Gormley bandwagon invaded the Yorkshire Coalfield with mainly anti-Communist material. Mick was defeated. Gormley polled 117,663 votes against 92,883 votes for McGahey.

The Party in Yorkshire not only played a major role in getting Alec Moffatt’s nomination in the earlier election, but this put us in a very strong position for the next crucial battle, the Yorkshire Presidency, which ended up as a straight fight between Jock Kane and Sam Bullough who had the advantage of being the Vice President and Acting President.

This was a great campaign: this was a test for the left to unite around one candidate. The result; Kane polled 27,862 votes (40%); Bullough 43,928 votes (60%). Again we had recorded a substantial increase for a Party candidate, from 11,000 in 1954 for Sammy to 15,753 for Jock as Vice President. Then there was a vote for the Yorkshire Presidency of nearly 28,000. In all an increase of 17,000 in 6 years – not bad! Not bad at all.

Before I leave this question of NUM elections in this period, there are other points I must record. One is positive and one negative. This may upset some of my friends, but the book is called “Being Frank” and that’s me; history must be true and mustn’t wait 50 years to be recorded.

Following the 1955 Armthorpe strike, to which I will come shortly now, a resolution was passed that, in addition to the five Area Officials, five Area Agents should be appointed embracing the eight Panels. The Party contested three seats and supported two lefts. Abe Collins was elected, representing Rotherham and Worksop Area.

In the Doncaster Area, Jock Kane on first preferences got 2,049, beating Harry Huckerby by 125 votes. In the final vote, Jock polled 4,109, being defeated by 155 votes. Armthorpe, which had a membership of over 2,500, returned only a 55% vote. If we had got 10% more Jock would have won and this would have put him in a much stronger position to win Area office before he eventually did in 1966 as Area Finance Officer.

In the Barnsley Area, (better known then in NUM circles as Carlton Area), Sammy Taylor in the first round polled 2,255, being neck and neck with J. Stone from the strong Frickley (South Elmsall) Area, who eventually beat Sammy by 186 votes. Again a lost opportunity! But Sammy was elected as Compensation Agent in 1961. Tommy Degnan, in a more difficult area overlapping Wakefield, polled 2,147. We had a total of 11,004, in a very difficult period. The Daily Express carried a story headed “The Reds step up pit drive” and “Three line up”. Comrade “Citizen” Jock Kane, Comrade Taylor and Comrade Degnan were all mentioned, with the usual quote. But there was no identifying the Miners’ Union leader who said that, “It is obvious the Communists are using their usual tactics of putting up only one candidate in an area to avoid splitting the vote”.

There were, in this period, two other elections in Yorkshire in which I was not directly involved as I had left Yorkshire by this time to become the Birmingham Party Secretary, subsequently becoming the Midlands District Secretary and a member of the Executive Committee of the Communist Party.

Even though I was in the Midlands, I was well informed about these developments and it is worth describing them. Jock Kane retired as Financial Secretary in 1966 and Owen Briscoe took over his role as the leader of the Doncaster Panel. Along with Percy Riley, he played a major role in preventing the Coal Board from using Government legislation on “Standardised Rents” which would have meant a substantial increase in the rents for Coal Board houses, especially the ones built in the 1950s for transferred miners. There was no doubt that Owen was a popular leader and thus warranted serious consideration for an Area official’s position.

I understand that the Yorkshire Party staked a claim that as Jock was elected as a well-known Communist, the Party had a right to replace him. I couldn’t understand the logic in this thinking, for it was not generally the way the Party worked in the Labour Movement. Admittedly, if a member of the Party was the most likely to defeat the right-wing, then we fought for our corner, as we did with Jock and Sammy. When Sammy died in 1971 he was replaced by Arthur Scargill, a former member of the Young Communist League, but again the argument was about whom was the best placed to succeed. For me, it was never about narrow Party advantage.

I was aware of the eruption that was being caused among the comrades in Yorkshire. I got a long telephone call from Eric Browne, a key activist and life-long friend in Armthorpe, asking me to intervene. This was impossible, as the comrade in charge of industrial work in Yorkshire, Howard Hill, would not take my interference lightly, as we weren’t the closest of friends. What I couldn’t understand was why the opinion of people like Jock Kane was not the Party’s guiding light. The feeling against this arrogant stand of Howard Hill was very strong indeed. Howard insisted that Peter Tait from Barnsley, a Scot whom I had recruited to the Party, must be the successor to Jock. I am told that Dave Priscott (the Yorkshire District Secretary after Bert Ramelson) tried to be the mediator between Jock and Howard. He visited Jock to explain that the decision to support Peter Tait had his backing also. I don’t think Dave Priscott had a clue about Jock’s temperament. I understand Jock’s reply was short: “So we have two stupid bastards!”, meaning Hill and Priscott. That should have made Dave re-think.

I have always operated a golden rule: consult the comrades who have to argue for the Party’s line. It wasn’t Howard Hill or Dave Priscott that faced a barrage of abuse, knowing well what could and did happen. Neither Peter Tait nor Owen Briscoe was short-listed in the end and a member of the staff, Raymond Horbury, who was head of the Finance Department, was elected in a three-cornered contest.

This was the first time in Yorkshire since 1954 that a left candidate was not short-listed. This was disastrous and certainly wouldn’t have happened if I had still been in the Coalfield. I got a phone call from the Yorkshire District asking if I would call in to see Peter when visiting my wife Freda’s family in Leeds. This I did, but the more I heard what was happening the more I became convinced that it was a wrong decision and that there was no need for it. Coming up was the position of Yorkshire Area Secretary, as Schofield was due to retire. Unity around Owen Briscoe was absolutely vital. Peter would have been a natural candidate for either Yorkshire Secretary, or the Area Financial Secretary if Owen decided later to go for General Secretary. As it worked out Owen became General Secretary and Peter Tait never won office. Peter then left the Party to take up a position in the International Miners’ Federation, offered to him by Joe Gormley, following another disastrous defeat in the election for Vice President of the Yorkshire Area which was won by Jack Taylor, an outsider, who went on to play a vital role in the 1980s whilst Peter faded away. The Party had displayed a shortsighted view of what was possible in the best interests of left unity. Not for the first time.

I left Yorkshire in 1968 not for any political difference, but there was a school of thought that the Party was well established in the Yorkshire Coalfield and I needed a change after 15 years struggling to get my pittance of a wage, often not in receipt of it, and I was married with two children by that time.

Maybe if some of the Soviet money which we are now being told about had been channelled into the South Yorkshire Coalfield, guaranteeing at least my pittance of a salary, my leaving could have been delayed. I am confident that the divisions between Owen Briscoe and Peter Tait wouldn’t have happened and Mick McGahey would have had a Party campaigning for him in 1971, instead of empty promises from the Yorkshire District of the Communist Party about the importance of retaining influence in the coalfield.

All I can say is that my conscience is clear. I was never in receipt of any help from the Party Centre and certainly not one penny came our way in the Midlands when we were struggling to build a Social Club, imaginatively bringing the Party’s image into the 20th Century.

On and off I kept up connections with the coalfield as when I helped out in Arthur Scargill’s various elections; Compensation Agent, Yorkshire President, National President twice, so no one can say that Scargill never tested the water. I can’t think of any Area or National Official that has such a record. He was a smashing campaigning candidate, but the agony I had to go through waiting for the result. It was a good job I was a super-optimist or I would not have been able to write these memoirs.

The other time I returned during my period in the Midlands was after a large delegation of Communist and left NEC miners invaded King Street (the headquarters of the Communist Party) requesting Johnny Gollan, the General Secretary, to release me from the Midlands to work on Owen Briscoe’s election for General Secretary. Johnny was shortly after to pay a visit to Harry Bourne, Midlands District Secretary who was seriously ill and in fact died later, and so met me in the Midlands.

Johnny wanted my opinion. I said that I was always prepared to help out, but I thought Owen could win with the team he had in Yorkshire. Johnny posed a key question to me – what if we have divisions in the Party, such as we have had since you left and Briscoe is defeated? Gollan answered himself that the Party would be held responsible. Therefore, in these circumstances, if my wife areed, I should go to Yorkshire to help out.

All I can say is that we won easily, but the most heartening factor was the warmth and welcome I got from the mining lads then and any time I was involved. The same applies since 1981, when I came back to Yorkshire for good and helped record a proud history that has enriched the Labour Movement, irrespective of what some say about the 1984/85 strike.

There are many other aspects of my work in South Yorkshire that put the Party on the map, especially our work winning two seats on the Thorne Rural District Council. This I will deal with later to put an end to the myth that my period in the Yorkshire Coalfield from 1953 to 1968 was mainly trying to win positions in the National Union of Mineworkers and that other aspects of Party activities were neglected.

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Chapter 4

“Bushfires to set the coalfield ablaze – the Armthorpe strike of May 1955

I have made passing reference to the Armthorpe pit strike, which took place in May 1955, and this campaign warrants a little more detailed examination. When I arrived in Yorkshire in 1953, I discovered that the Coalfield was rife with rank and file militancy. This revolved around a system where pieceworkers’ wages weren’t fully related to the amount of coal produced. Nearly half was made up in a multitude of allowances. These were negotiated at the point of production.

Progressive deputies, wanting to get the face cleared off, would agree with pool leaders on what these allowances should be. Other deputies, who were not so progressive, and, afraid of management, were in constant battle with the lads. On top of that the management could all too often easily over-ride these local agreements and withdraw special payments.

In 1954, the Yorkshire Coalfield had more stoppages than the rest of the country and the highest number in the post-war period. I can only describe them like “bushfires”, flaming up in every part of the coalfield. There were no Area Agents only Area Officials, who were incapable of dealing with the volume of disputes and, in some cases, so discredited they did not dare to show their faces at the collieries, it was left to Branch Officials to negotiate with local management.

I attended many of these meetings, reporting news stories based on them to the Daily Worker and generally testing the atmosphere. I was convinced that some day we would get the right pit, with leadership and rank and file support, which would end the “bushfires” and set the entire coalfield ablaze.

By this time Alwyn Machin had taken over from Ernest Jones. It was obvious Machin had direct contact with the Coal Board and was able to get some satisfactory settlements. I always remember him saying. “If I don’t get a satisfactory settlement, I promise you that I will resign”. I knew the magnitude of the strikes was growing and some day he would regret those words. That day came in May 1955 when the Armthorpe branch decided to call a halt. A special Doncaster Panel was called that weekend which decided to support any action undertaken by the Armthorpe miners.

Machin was given a very rough ride when he attended a mass meeting in a field behind the Taddy pub one Sunday morning. He was the only Area Official present and pleaded that he knew all about the men’s problems because he had first-hand information from his son who was a face worker at Thorne pit. The men shouted him down, saying he should be ashamed of himself allowing his own son to work under such conditions for terrible wages. The following day another mass meeting was held in Armthorpe. All the Doncaster pits were represented to carry out the Panel’s decision. I have never witnessed such a mass gathering of men determined to end once and for all the uncertainty of what wages they would receive. I managed to get into the meeting, while hundreds had to wait outside. Jock Kane was President of Armthorpe and he introduced the platform, including the Panel representatives. He gave a brief report of the dispute and highlighted the Panel’s support for action, but made the point that of course that would depend on the outcome of the meeting. Area and Panel officials who had turned up to speak against the strike changed their minds when they gauged the mood of the meeting.

Representing Yorkshire NUM was Fred Collinridge, who was the most hated and vicious right wing leader; not only incompetent, but lazy and never available when needed. Along with him was Alwyn Machin. Alwyn, who came from the Doncaster Area, of course had a reputation as a militant – a new type of leader, with a fair intellectual capacity. He started in his usual way. “I can understand the frustration. Working so hard, sometimes in wet conditions, dangerous roofing, breakdowns etc., expecting to receive the amount of allowance agreed between your representative and the deputy, and only to discover either the manager or the under-manager has pencilled it out. I can assure you, if I don’t get these reductions restored, I will resign”.

Well, only a Hampden roar could be compared with this spontaneous reply, “Resign now because you have had since last week to rectify this problem!!” That’s what the lads roared out. Then Jock Kane called for order and said, “Mr Collinridge, our General Secretary, has a brilliant idea to get a proper consensus of this meeting. He has brought ballot papers for you to declare support or no support for strike”. Can you imagine the reaction towards this hated and discredited official? Again Kane had to appeal for order and then went on to put the boot into Collinridge. In his usual sarcastic and laconic way Jock said: “Now lads, get your pencil out of your pocket – get your jacket over your head to ensure no-one sees how you vote.” He then turned to Collinridge and said: “Fred, there is only one way we vote at Armthorpe – show of hands and you know what to do with your ballot paper.” A massive cloud of hands for action went up. The coalfield was waiting for this. Doncaster pits had met that weekend and all endorsed the Panel decision to support Armthorpe. But the problem was West Yorkshire.

Here the idea of the “Flying Pickets” was tried out. Fortunately enough, the Branch Committee was united in support of the flying pickets. So there was no shortage of money for breakfast in the pit canteens, or petrol allowance. A prosperous home coal scheme of which Kane was the Secretary delivered the goods. The invasion of the West Yorkshire pits by the Doncaster lads did lead to one minor setback, however. The flying pickets took their payslips with them to show to the West Yorkshire lads but the tactic backfired when they discovered that the West Yorkshire pits were getting paid even less than they were themselves! It did not deter them, though, and picketing proceeded but the Doncaster lads stopped waving their payslips about!

Within days the Coalfield was at a standstill. A special Council meeting was called on the following Monday, but Armthorpe was not included. Arthur Horner, a life-long Communist, was the national General Secretary and had a good relationship with Bill Sales who was National Industrial Relations Officer for the NCB. (Sales was one of the few Coal Board personnel committed to the industry and the success of nationalisation.) Horner was invited to address this Council, but it became clear the delegates did not dare to vote to return to work without the agreement of Armthorpe who were excluded from the meeting.

Now the behind the scenes diplomacy was to be tried. The Armthorpe Branch Committee was in the Royal Hotel in Barnsley, a few hundred yards from the Miners Offices. Horner sent one of the staff down to invite Kane to meet him privately. Both Kane and Horner were old buddies and both members of the Communist Party. Kane’s reaction was however supremely principled: – “I have no objection to meeting the General Secretary, but not unless he is prepared to meet all members of the Branch Committee.” This Horner could not do, because by this time the strategy of the right wing was to isolate the Armthorpe branch and take disciplinary action against a group of the strike leaders, including Jock Kane.

Both Bert Ramelson and myself were daily involved. The Daily Worker sent George Sinfield to cover the strike. George resented the fact that Bert and I would call at his hotel about 7.00 a.m. to meet Kane and review what was needed. Here is when the Party was so vital. By this time we had grown in numbers and contacts in Yorkshire, and the Party nationally was following the dispute with great interest. A defeat, with the prospects of Kane and others expelled out of the Union and out of the industry, would be disastrous.

When Horner returned to London he made it clear to Bill Sales, NCB National Industrial Officer, that the NCB would never have peace in that coalfield as long as a large percentage of piece workers’ wages were made up with allowances; and that management should not have the right to reject allowances without knowing the real nature of working conditions as agreed by the Deputy and the men’s representatives. I understand that a meeting between Horner and Sales took place where all the three issues were settled: i.e. a) The right to negotiate allowances on the job without senior management interference; b) A substantial increase in tonnage rate c) An Area Water Agreement, when required to work in wet conditions.

By Wednesday, Horner couldn’t understand why the coalfield was still stood when all demands were agreed upon and he asked the Industrial Department of the Communist Party to find out why Armthorpe was still on strike. What he did not realise was that the Area Officials did not want a settlement, but revenge for their humiliating experience at that meeting in Armthorpe.

On the following Wednesday, when the strike was in its second week and still solid, I picked up a small news item in the Doncaster Post which said that Horner and Sales had met and agreed to meet the demands of the strike. This appeared only in the early edition that was rarely read except by punters looking for the day’s race cards. The problem was how to confirm this report. Another special Council was called on the Thursday. Before the Council meeting, I visited Allen Beaney, the delegate from Hickleton, and looked upon as the father of the Council; Beaney was a very capable orator. Again Armthorpe was not invited. When Machin opened the meeting, Beaney moved a point of order that he had a press cutting on which he wanted some clarification. This was agreed; Beaney read it out and asked Machin if he had received any correspondence from Horner confirming a meeting that had taken place with an agreed settlement. Machin said there was some correspondence regarding a discussion with Horner and Sales. He was then asked to read the correspondence out. Beaney then moved that a copy of this letter be delivered immediately by hand to all Branch Secretaries and that all Panels meet over the weekend to consider returning to work based on this agreed settlement.

Machin, I understand, was livid. Eddie Collins, who was Compensation Agent and one of the five Officials, was not informed. Once we had an official copy it was all over bar the shouting. But wait. The purpose of the Special Council was not only to isolate Armthorpe, but to discipline the strike leaders. The following morning a meeting of all the five officials took place and, with the exception of Eddie Collins, they agreed to discipline five leaders including Jock Kane. Eddie always left his office dead on 12 noon for his lunch and we had a special rendezvous where we would meet. Eddie was nearly in tears at the thought of these lads being victimised by his Union.

Now here was a real problem. The strike had lasted two weeks and the signs of financial strains were appearing among the lads. We had won a resounding victory against the Coal Board and now we had to fight our own Union. All the Panels were meeting that night. How could I deliver this news without disclosing its source? The answer was a simple resolution: “that all pits resume work on Monday, provided there was no victimisation either by the Board or the Union.”

The problem was both time and distance of travel. I was in Barnsley. To get to Armthorpe meant I would require two buses. I also had to get to Thurcroft and Worksop, for their Panels were meeting that night, and we wanted as many of the Panels as possible passing a similar resolution. I was in digs at the home of Norman Greenfield, who always had a big car. I had passed my driving test but had no car. I went into Norman’s, took his car keys, knowing he wouldn’t be home until 6 o’clock. I phoned Bert Ramelson and asked him to ask Bob Wilkinson to cover the West Yorkshire Panel. I also asked him to be at Norman’s house before 6 p.m. to defend me. Norman didn’t object, but what an experience! I hadn’t driven a big car. Norman was a very big man and I couldn’t adjust the driving seat. I drove that car over 60 miles with my legs fully stretched out. There are those comrades who have since remarked that driving with me when my feet were touching the floor could be an even more terrifying experience!

Then I had another problem, when I arrived at Jock’s house there was no one in. I dare not go to the pub, where the strike committee had its headquarters. By the way, Jock had a golden rule … you never drank even a pint of beer when you were leading a dispute. I phoned the pub hoping Jock or someone friendly would answer. But no such luck, it was Joe Cole, the Branch Secretary, who never had the guts for a struggle. Even so, Joe had developed a liking for George Sinfield, who was one of the best industrial correspondents. This is how the conversation went:

F.W. “Can I speak to Mr Kane.”

J. Cole. “Mr Kane is busy.”

F.W. “I know, but it’s important.”

J. Cole. “Is that you George, I will get him.”

Kane came to the phone, by this time I had a lather of sweat with the car problems and worry as to whether Cole would detect it was me. Don’t ask me how I did it, but it worked. When Kane answered he said: “What do you want George?” I said: “It’s me.” He said: “Jesus Christ! What are you playing at, trying to imitate George Sinfield?” My normal accent was and is distinctly Scottish. George was obviously a Londoner when you heard him talk. The sweat by this time was dropping off my nose – when I told him the problem he readily agreed to try to get the resolution carried at the Panel. Then I was off to Thurcroft and Worksop, another 20 miles each way with my legs fully stretched.

In the evening I got Norman to take me into Doncaster to meet Jock and George in the Danum Hotel. There is no one I have ever known who can put on a poker face better than Jock Kane. I hadn’t got over my earlier experience and was wondering if Cole had spilled the beans that I had had a special message for Kane and wouldn’t divulge it to him.

Both of them walked in – George Sinfield and Jock. I said, “How did it go?” Kane replied, “How did it go? We have worked our bollocks off, our lads have been kicked from pillar to post and you had to put your stupid foot in it!!” He kept on and on, George claims he could see my red face turning green. At that he burst out laughing and told Kane to stop it then ordered me a large Drambuie. Kane then unravelled the story. After he returned to the other side of the bar, where Joe Cole was standing, Cole said: “Did you get George”? Kane said: “Yes, it was nothing” and Cole then said: “There is one thing about George you can always tell. It’s sure to be him by his cockney accent.”

All’s well that ends well. Sales then decided to come into Yorkshire as NCB Chairman. The coalfield was never the same, but as long as you have a piecework system you will always have “rag-ups”. Hence, we saw the need to step up the fight in all coalfields for the campaign for a National Power Loading Agreement where miners had a common wage-rate that also unified all face workers. That was the corner stone that led to the 1972 strike, and it became one of our major tasks.

The next campaign was to build on our success and make sure the branch elections in June reflected the new mood of confidence. This we did and we increased our representation on the Council from three to nine. We also got a decision that each Area would have a full-time Agent. Now was the chance to test the support we had in the coalfield.

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Chapter 5 “Show your face to the people” – Campaigning for the Party in the Yorkshire Coalfield: 1958-68

The reader would up to now be forgiven for getting the impression that the only field of activity the CP in South Yorkshire concentrated upon was in bringing about a radical change in the balance of forces within the NUM, especially in the Yorkshire Area.

This was of course was our immediate objective, but building the Party was vital. Even so we couldn’t work in isolation from the many international events, which occurred during this period. All of which posed the most difficult problems for the British CP since it was formed in 1920.

In the early months of 1956 the revelations of Nikita Khrushchev at the 20th Congress of the CP of the Soviet Union shocked the world’s Communist Parties. He revealed, in a secret session, many of the crimes of Stalin in the years immediately before the 2nd World War and the years that followed. Then, in the summer of 1956, the Soviet Army invaded Hungary; and Britain, France and Israel embroiled themselves in the Suez disaster. During these three years the British Communist Party lost nearly 8,000 members; many were intellectuals and Jewish comrades who joined the Party during the war years, especially after the German invasion of the Soviet Union in the summer of 1941.

These revelations not only affected this group of Communists, but many blue and white-collar workers. Many Trade Union leaders, such as John Horner, General Secretary of the Fire Brigades’ Union, left, as did Alec Moffatt of the Scottish NUM, although he re-joined later. Bert Wynn (Derbyshire), Jim Hammond (Lancashire), Willie Allan (Northumberland) and Lawrence Daly (Scotland), were all Communist Party members from the NUM who resigned.

In Yorkshire, we had maybe the most difficult and toughest internal struggles in all the areas of the British Communist Party. We had a powerful group of intellectuals, E.P. Thompson, John Saville, and John Hughes, along with other academics. Some of these were well known as Communists, others who had kept their heads very low because of the anti-Communist atmosphere of the McCarthy years, suddenly allowed their names to appear publicly.

The launching pad for a new theoretical journal, called “The Reasoner”, was in Yorkshire. This was to provide an in-depth analysis of what went wrong in the Soviet Union. They challenged the concept of democratic centralism primarily to acquire facilities within the Party to distribute the journal, with no Party control over the content and editorial policy.

The final outcome was that the journal did appear, but it was short-lived because it had no common political or ideological base. It was a pity these comrades left the Party, because by this time the British Communist Party was taking a more critical view of events in the Soviet Union and agreed to publish a monthly journal, “Marxism Today”, a discussion and theoretical journal edited by James Klugmann. He, along with other intellectuals in Yorkshire, such as Arnold Kettle, Ron and Joan Bellamy, Tom Driver, Bill Moore, and District Secretary and District Organiser Bert and Marian Ramelson, were no mean students of Marxism. Industrial workers such as Jock Kane, Sammy Taylor, Bill Carr from the NUM and engineers’ rank and file leaders George Caborn and Herbert Howarth, Hymie Besser and other comrades in the Leeds area, joined in defending the unity of the Party. These together may have been able for a time to fill the major gap in the Communist Party’s intellectual leadership, following the death of key theorist James Klugmann, after which Marxism Today, the journal he had edited, was high jacked from the Party and then played a major role in the diminution of the Marxism in the CPGB and its programme, “The British Road to Socialism”.

There were big divisions among the full-time staff in the Yorkshire Communist Party. In Leeds, where we had a large Jewish membership, especially in the clothing industry and our comrades had a rough time. What made matters worse for them was that the Leeds Secretary of the Party, Jim Roche, could not come to terms with the revelations and later left the Party.

In Sheffield, where the leadership was also weak, it needed industrial workers like George Caborn, Herbert Howarth and others who had a massive industrial influence in the city, finally had to intervene to hold the Party together and to get on with the task of defending workers’ conditions and fighting the run-down in engineering and steel.

In South Yorkshire we had our problems. An up-and-coming young writer from Thurcroft, near Rotherham, Len Doherty, resigned. He featured me as a character, thinly disguised as “Frank Wells” in one of his books. Len at this time was under the influence of other Communist writers, like the now famous Doris Lessing. Len was enjoying the social snobbery of his regular weekends in London with the literary elite. Looking back, and especially on the other tragic issue of Soviet intervention – in Czechoslovakia – this experience helped me to reject the notion of the infallibility of Marxist leaders, just as I had previously rejected the notion of Papal infallibility which the priests had tried to instil in me.

In spite of all these internal problems, the Party in South Yorkshire was making big advances in our public campaigning. The main breakthrough came in 1958 when Bill Carr was elected to the Thorne Rural District Council. This encouraged others to have a go. In the early 60s, Jock McKenna polled over 1,200 votes in Rossington, near Doncaster, nearly defeating a strong right-wing candidate who was the NUM branch delegate. As late as 1992, capitalising on all these years of work, Terry Wilde stood under the name “Democratic Left”, (the CPGB having been dissolved). He polled 560 votes, the lowest vote in that village since the 60s. The change of name didn’t do much good for Terry. I estimate that, by the 1960s, we were contesting in at least 14 local authority elections across the area. Percy Riley was the first Communist in Yorkshire to be elected but along with several other Labour councillors in Dearne was removed from office for sending an official council delegation to the Warsaw Peace Conference. Apparently they should have kept their attention fixed on dustbins! This conference should have been held in Sheffield, but the Labour Government forced Picasso, along with Percy and many others to go to Poland instead.

The other interesting contest was when young Arthur Scargill at the age of 22 challenged a key figure of the Worsbrough Urban District Council. Arthur won on the first count by a majority of one in the postal ballot returns. We tried to get that accepted by the Returning Officer as the final vote, but consistent with his usual lack of humour we got the reply “no”. Arthur polled 138 votes out of a total of nearly 2,000. This proves he has always been in favour of postal votes! It was not a bad result for a first time contest, but the issues raised in the campaign were interesting.

Alongside general issues of Housing, Education, etc. we highlighted the problems of the young people in Worsbrough. “If you want more than a pint and a game of darts, you have to hop on a bus to Barnsley or Sheffield … No cinema, no swimming baths, no dance hall, no skating.” Olympic sprint champions like Dorothy Hyman and Gloria Goldsborough of Barnsley had to travel 12 miles to Sheffield for their practices. Now we have a first class stadium named after Dorothy Hyman at Cudworth and a Leisure Centre at Hoyland. This, we said, was what Socialism is all about, providing facilities for the old, young, disabled and disadvantaged.

Pic: Yorkshire Young Communist League activists in the early 1950s

Of course, we targeted the areas in the coalfield where we could make a breakthrough. We did likewise in local election contests especially in Moorends, Doncaster. Bill Carr, (following the 1955 Armthorpe strike), had been elected Thorne Branch NUM delegate, defeating George Kenny, a right-winger and West Yorkshire County Councillor. He now found himself in a stronger position to win a seat on the Thorne Rural District Council and was elected second from top of the poll with 934 votes. Then, the following March, a by-election took place. Sam Cairns, the Communist candidate, received a magnificent vote of 623 to Labour’s 1093 in a straight fight when the poll was even higher than in May.

Bill Carr later contested the local seat for the West Yorkshire County Council. All this required months of canvassing before the May election. We had only a handful of Party members, so we had to rely on comrades coming in at the weekend from other areas.

In the present circumstances it is difficult to grasp the atmosphere in the Thorne Area leading up to all elections; there was the Thorne RDC, West Yorkshire County Council and the Goole Parliamentary Constituency. Bill Carr polled over 1000 votes out of an electorate of just over 3,000 in a straight fight with Labour for the Thorne RDC. Then there was the vote of over 1,200 for West Yorkshire County Council in a much larger area than Moorends. And he polled nearly 1,000 in the Parliamentary contest in 1964 when the Tories had ruled for 13 years and Harold Wilson promised the “White heat of the Technological Revolution” and a halt to pit closures.

The election of Bill Carr in 1958 as a Councillor, with such a magnificent vote was no accident; it was the result of years of hard work, particularly by Bill in the pit, the union branch and regular sales of the Daily Worker, both in the pit and in the village.

The main problem we faced in these elections was that we had far too small a Party to do all the things we had to do. Here is where many non-Party sympathizers helped out and became natural contacts for joining the Party. The right-wing area officials in the Yorkshire NUM got worried that a Communist might join the elite club of sponsored NUM branch secretaries and delegates on the County Council where election expenses and an attendance allowance were paid.

They were so worried when, in 1963, Bill Carr contested the County Council election against the rejected NUM sponsored Labour candidate, George Kenny, who never attended a branch meeting following his defeat as delegate in 1955. The Area EC, which Jock Kane and Sammy Taylor were theoretically obliged to support, issued a leaflet to every voter in the area calling on them to support the official Labour and NUM candidate, George Kenny. This was at a time when Independents and Ratepayers were sweeping the boards in strong Labour areas, and yet only in the Thorne Area was such an appeal made.

The Yorkshire right-wing thought that they would be able to silence people like Jock Kane and Sammy Taylor on polling day. All it meant was we rallied more help and Jock and Sammy toured the area calling for support for Bill Carr and exposing the so-called NUM sponsored candidate who never attended a union branch meeting for over eight years.

Many miners’ MPs were drafted into the area, including George Jaeger MP for Goole, whose stay was shortened when he was challenged by Jock Kane to “come out of your big car, remove that microphone and show your face to the people”. I have never heard anything like it; windows and doors opened and the street was packed. Jaeger couldn’t face this challenge, he took the microphone from his face but it was to accelerate his departure and many more decided they had had enough.

It was a political treat to be in this area on Election Day when Party posters were stuck on walls everywhere – or in windows of hundreds of houses; sixteen sheet posters were displayed as you entered the area. A well decorated shop, with a large window right on the main road, showed the Party meant business and what was needed was another Communist on the Council, to ensure issues like increased rents and cuts in social services would be debated. You had the usual situation, a massive Labour majority; the group would meet and decide, resulting in Carr not being able to get a seconder. That we soon remedied by Sam Cairns joining Bill, but what an experience!

This time it was a very high turnout; Bill had topped the poll but there was a concerted effort to defeat Sam. There were three counts to decide between Sam Cairns and Johnny Weaver, a very good left-winger. On the first count Weaver won by six. We called for a re-count and Sam Cairns had a majority of three. By this time we were all looking at our watches wondering if we would get a pint after such a long day during which we operated a rule, “no beers during period of canvassing.” There was a common understanding that we were entitled to at least the last half hour before the pub closed, so we agreed that the third count would be final, and Sam held his lead of three, and that was it.

The pub was chock-a-block awaiting the result. When I walked in, our supporters knew the result by the big smile on my face. It had been hard going and by the time the polling stations closed I had made a few enemies by insisting, even in the rain, that we had a list of promises with no record of how they had voted. The usual cry was “Christ, I’ve visited that person and they claim to have voted.” My records said no, therefore try again, I insisted. The comrades who had travelled from all over Yorkshire respected the discipline, because we knew we were fighting for every vote for Sam, Bill was home and dry, but Sam had to struggle. I phoned Freda, my wife, to explain that in no way could I get back home until the following morning. As usual, she understood and was pleased with the result. I had spent nearly two weeks in Moorends.

The victory for Sam and Bill was a combination of splendid candidates, a vigorous campaign and the thrashing out, on the doorsteps and in street meetings, of the basic political issues that convinced the people of Moorends that Carr needed a running mate, if their grievances were to be aired.

There was one incident in these election contests when the Labour supporters got a good laugh at our expense. It was the Parliamentary Election in 1964. Sam Cairns had a big posh car and there was a large family in Moorends who were, as they say, a copper or two short of a full shilling! Sam crushed them all into his car to vote. The regulations prevent any unauthorised person in the polling booth. Sam had to wait in the corridor, along with many of his personal friends in the Labour Party. When the mother of this large family came out, followed by her chickens, Sam said: “Well, did you all vote?” They replied: “Yes, we voted, Mr Cairns. We voted for Mr Jaeger” (the Labour candidate). The Labour supporters were in stitches, and the penalty for voting Labour was they had to walk home. There is an old saying: “You can take a horse to the well, but you can’t make it drink.”

With Sam now on the Council with Bill, soon the meetings, which normally lasted one hour, were having to be adjourned many times. Council house rent increases were an annual battleground and alongside Sam and Bill battling it out in the Council Chambers, petitions were being signed, councillors lobbied and the most right wing harassed.

There was one from Stainforth, called Councillor Riddle, who liked a few beverages before the Council meetings and found his beer money somehow other than by working. Sam Cairns really upset him, when it was obvious that it was the beer that was talking; Sam would say: “Aye-hey diddle diddle, Riddle is on the fiddle.”

Alongside the many things won for the people of Moorends and Thorne, the one promise our councillors made and achieved was the building of a swimming bath in that area. That is what is meant by putting Socialist thinking into practice.

Now the task was to build a Party and not always to rely on outside help. This we did, in spite of internal and international problems.

The influence of the Communist Party far exceeds its numerical strength.” How often have we heard that said? Nowhere is this more true than among the mining communities, shown in the election of National, Area and Local Officials of the NUM. In Scotland and Wales, scores of Communists were elected to all levels of local government authorities and Willie Gallacher to Parliament for West Fife. Shotts was no exception where a well known Communist, John Ferguson, an able orator, speaking every week at the Labour Exchange, leading

deputations to the Parish Chambers for extra food allowances, bedding, boots and some warm underwear to survive the harsh winters of which Shotts had more than a fair share, was elected in a straight fight with Labour.

It was this activity that won the respect and acceptance that Communists cared for the people, whereas the Labour Party, especially following the betrayal of Ramsay McDonald, went into oblivion during those hard years. This should not surprise anyone, as a vital ingredient has always been missing from Labour’s recipe book – that is participating in mass struggle, and maybe all those engaged in the post-mortem into why Labour lost the 1992 election should start

rectifying this. They have a ready-made issue to start with – put unemployment at the top of this agenda. The Labour and Trade Union Movement can’t say “wait for a return of a Labour Government”.

The “People’s Marches” in the 80s mainly came from the initiative of the Communist Party backed up by progressive local Labour Parties, trades unions, trades councils and many church organisations. Here we have a problem. Irrespective of our numerical strength, distinguished by its organisational capacity as well as analytical powers and strategic vision, this is no longer possible since the “New Thinkers” who have

dissolved the Communist Party of Great Britain have also ditched the word “struggle”, let alone “class struggle”, from their recipe and inserted “consensus” politics and the confusion of tactical voting. What must be understood is that you will never defeat right-wing governments or right-wing control in the Trade Union Movement by empty slogans – “Time for Change, Time for Labour.” What we need is a change in society that puts people’s need before the satisfaction of the greedy few. This is what we tried to do, with some success, in the Yorkshire Coalfield in the Fifties and Sixties. Especially in the direction of changing the NUM despite the hostility of those like the Yorkshire Miners’ leader George Rhodes who promised to “cut out Communist influence like a surgeon cuts out a cancer”.

Also, to our credit in our public work, especially in our local election campaigns, we raised the questions of lack of facilities for the young; the need for health centres; more senior citizens’ homes; more meals on wheels and home helps; we opposed annual increases in rents and where we had influence, such as in Thorne, both Sam Cairns and Bill Carr fought and won the right to sit on all committees in the Council, to make sure the controlling group carried out their promises. We were in the forefront against pit closures. We were always in the forefront fighting for a decent wage for the miners. Jock Kane often remarked, “We couldn’t get up off our knees for the medals Lord Robens pinned on us instead of decent wages”.

Yes, this generation of Communists in the Yorkshire Coalfield had a proud record of service and I am proud to be associated with it. It was a very rewarding 15 years I spent in the Yorkshire Coalfield. Especially, as the next chapter recounts, because I met and married my late wife Freda whilst in Yorkshire and my daughter Lesley was born and mainly schooled there. The kindness and friendship I enjoyed then was typical of Yorkshire folk and I am lucky to be enjoying this goodwill all over again now.

But, I must make some comment on the real financial problems both Freda and I had to face in Yorkshire in the early days. Without her political understanding and our mutual love for each other I wouldn’t have been able to do what I did. Not only were there big financial sacrifices, but I was not always about at vital times when needed. On numerous occasions I would try to justify such absences. My daughter Lesley then and now would say “where were you on the day I was born – in Moorends selling Daily Workers”. That’s true; she was born in March 1959, just before we won both seats on the Thorne RDC.

Anyone who has spent any time working in any coalfield in Britain will confirm it is a difficult task not only to build Communist Party branches, but to retain them. Hard work and shift problems in the mining industry leaves little leisure time, especially after working in the bowels of the earth all week, on nights and afternoons. A social drink or two naturally took priority at the weekend. The task we had to overcome was to organise events that took this into consideration, coupled with trying to ensure that miners’ wives could fit into such events. In short, how to mix politics with pleasure.

We took a gamble on Saturday evening socials-cum-meetings in a clean and attractive pub or hotel. We were fortunate that we had a number of good speakers who wanted to come into the coalfield, to share our successes and to help. John Williamson was a victim of the McCarthy anti-communist period in the USA. John was a Scotsman who had emigrated to America during the depression and joined the Communist Party there. A massive campaign was conducted throughout Scotland, especially in the Scottish NUM, when John was finally deported back to his native Scotland. His experience was sought all over the country. We got a date from John and organised a meeting in Darton, a mining village near Barnsley where an outstanding Communist, Harry Hyde, a highly respected pit deputy, would ensure a good audience. I was living in

Barnsley and helped out. Forty turned up to hear John and eight joined the Party. Moorends branch, which is at the other end of the coalfield, 30 miles away, sent a deputation to see how this event went. They were very impressed and, with their successes in the local elections, decided anything Darton could do they could do better. In other words, we got the spirit of Socialist emulation going.

The challenge was taken up. On the Saturday before Christmas a social-cum-meeting was arranged with Les Ellis, a Nottinghamshire miners’ leader, as the speaker. Eighty attended and eleven joined the Party. This was followed by another event in Darton with Johnny Campbell, a well-known Party leader, and ten joined the Party. Moorends said to me, “We will double Darton’s recruitment if you get us a national speaker. George Matthews, then Editor of the Daily Worker, agreed to come. This followed a by-election where Sam Cairns polled 623 votes.

Amazingly, there was a note of disappointment when ‘only’ 90 turned up to the meeting! Yet, out of this, we made 14 recruits, including three YCLers. But the target of 20 recruits was achieved, because those friends of the Party in Moorends who had promised to come along as possible recruits, had, for a variety of reasons, been prevented on the night. They were visited and the target of 20 for the Party and three for the YCL was achieved before the week was out. We also tried out this style of work, unfortunately with less success, in other villages. Even so, the overall results were good. By the end of January, we had increased our membership by 80 over the previous year, and had the biggest membership in the coalfield for many years.

Success breeds success, but there was one field of our work where this was not true. This was in raising sufficient donations to pay my pittance of a weekly wage and also to keep the organisation financially viable. This single failure played a major part in the decision of comrades, especially the miners, both in Yorkshire and nationally, that it was time I had a change of District with a bit more security and a regular wage.

Let me make it clear, it was not entirely the fault of the comrades in South Yorkshire that we had to endure the often humiliating experience of being like the weekly ‘debt collector’, whose knock on the door was not the most welcome sound. The real problem of course was that the Party never had sufficient money to pay even the average wage of an industrial worker. But to crown it all, Communist Party full timers who were in an area with a small number, and like South Yorkshire a massive area to cover, were much worse off than in cities like Leeds with a large professional membership. Or, as in the case of Sheffield, well established factory branches where it was relatively easier to arrange weekly collections. Sheffield also had the benefit of the philanthropic bakers, “Fletchers”. The owner was the son of George Fletcher, (who was one of the twelve Communists imprisoned during the 1926 miners’ strike and charged with ‘sedition’ for supporting the miners). His son, also called George, could always be relied upon when the going was tough – a vehicle with free repairs meant the full-time organiser and his staff never needed to spend their weekends collecting wages.

It is a known fact there is no better fundraiser than myself! In my adulthood, as in my boyhood, I have never let my pride stand in the way of collecting money for the Party and the wider movement of the working class. Of that I have a proud record. But both Freda and I knew the fault lay more at the door of the District and the Party Centre, who claimed the winning of the Yorkshire miners, and the NUM, was a vital ingredientto any progress. Therefore, much more help should have been given.

Instead, I was under constant pressure over my area not meeting its financial obligations to the District and constant harassment from the Centre that South Yorkshire was among those areas with the lowest dues paying membership in the country. There was a weekly stamp to be bought by members, the proceeds from which were divided between the Centre, District and Branch, but because Area Committees were not formally part of the constitution, they didn’t qualify for any share of this monthly payment.

Bert Ramelson, then the Yorkshire District Secretary, did show some compassion, but he hadn’t a clue how to solve this problem. One Saturday, he called at our house to have a discussion about some issues that were coming up at the District Committee the following Sunday. When he enquired where I was, Freda’s reply was “the usual – chasing money”. He finally found me at a Gala, not for the beer or entertainment, but because I knew there would be a number of comrades whom I could tap. I think this experience upset Bert, for he came forward with what he thought was the answer. The Party in Leeds had many good contacts in the clothing trade. Terylene had just come onto the market; difficult to get, but in great demand. Now if I could, along with other comrades, get orders for ready-mades the margin of profit was good and this might help to fill the gap between the partial wages I was actually receiving and the pittance I was supposed to receive.

Hymie Besser, a Jewish comrade who was a market trader and had plenty of contacts in clothing, could get ready made suits, some with a slight fault, selling for less than £5.00. Bill Carr had a contact in Hemel Hempstead who had a shirt factory, some perfect and some not so perfect. What they all forgot was that you also needed a large cash float, because no matter how cheap or desirous it was to get a pair of Terylene trousers, the custom and practice was to pay so much down and the rest when you could catch me. So instead of knocking at comrades’ doors at the weekend, when at least I could do some political business as well, I was chasing debtors so as to pay my creditors, who were breathing down my neck at the end of each month.

Bert and Marian Ramelson went to the Soviet Union for a month and when they got back their bank balance had gone. The creditors had threatened to take legal action and as it was Bert’s idea, and it was the District that would have faced the consequence, the comrade in charge, Connie Sheehan, agreed to pay. I will not repeat the verbal battle between Bert and myself when I was ordered to appear before him when he returned. This ended the venture of selling trousers, suits and shirts, and the rhyming slogan coined by Sammy Taylor, if voiced in the Yorkshire way, “Don’t go round in rags and tatters, get your shirts and suits from Frankie Watters”, was no longer valid.

Then Bert had another bright idea. Sammy Cairns was a very good and hard-working businessman, with a track record of success second to none Bert explained to Sammy the vital role I was playing, but that I couldn’t continue much longer on intermittent wages with a wife and two children. Bert’s idea was that Sammy would put up a cash float of £50 that was to balance any weekly deficit and Sam would pay me my weekly salary. Very good intentions, but what Bert failed to realise, and Sam soon realised, was that unless I continued to spend a large part of my time raising money, I would end up with part weekly wages. The £50 disappeared in less than three weeks and Sam, a successful businessman, failed to resolve this problem.

I will never forget when, on the third week, I appeared in Sam’s coal yard, expecting my pay slip to be along with the other coal drivers he employed. Sam was a hard man, but I never have seen anyone so upset, because the money was not coming in and my style of work had changed. “More politics, less debt collecting” were my instructions, but where were my wages? I told Sam not to worry, that I had survived for all these years and we would find another way out. Sammy did find me a way out; the least said the better, because you could have been reading, “Watters’ Prison Notes” instead of “Gramsci’s Prison Notes”!

The next scheme involved friends across the Pennines, where a Party supporter had many warehouses stacked with soft toys and Christmas goods, offering them at reasonable prices. By this time, Sam’s other tricky venture had given us a nice nest egg so we were able to pay by cash. I applied for a market stall in the Rossington market on a Friday. So, instead of selling Daily Workers at the pithead, I was manning a stall. This had a financial reward and especially around Christmas comrades bought many things. The other advantage was that I was now in a position to join a trade union. When I left the pits in 1953, I could no longer remain within the NUM, I applied to the T & G – they rejected me because they had no trade group for my profession. ASTMS rejected me on the grounds that I couldn’t prove I was a full salaried paid employee. The clerical union, later APEX, had a ban by which the EC could veto Communist organisers from joining. But as a retailer I was now able to join the shop workers’ union, USDAW.

There is one success story, but unfortunately it was a one-off. I had visited a friend in hospital who had suffered a mental breakdown. It was a very warm afternoon and I was very upset. There were some major road alterations on the outskirts of Sheffield with Police controlling the traffic. I don’t know what happened, maybe I dozed off and my foot came off the clutch, but, suddenly, I saw this policeman on top of my van and his helmet across the road. Of course they made it look worse than it really was. The ambulance arrived, he was carried off and I was in trouble.

When I told Tom Driver of the incident, he advised me to get a solicitor. Tom was brought up in the South Yorkshire coalfield in the hungry 30s and the gritty resilience he learned there stood him in good stead when he found himself, in 1961, President of the Association of Teachers in Technical Institutes.

He had earned the respect of staff and schools management alike with his steerage of the implementation of the 1944 Education Act in its most difficult area, the “Cinderella” department of state-administered post-school education. His encouragement and stimulation was appreciated by students and staff alike. With the rationalisation of the many and varied trade unions representing teachers in further education, a task which Tom handled with tact and flair, he eventually ended up as President of the National Association of Teachers in Further and Higher Education, a post from which he retired in 1977. While there he not only succeeded in uniting the many different factions inherited from the old unions which made up NATFHE, but he also played a key role in a number of international teachers’ organisations. Both Tom and his wife, Thora, were very good friends to me and my wife.

Pic: Ian Walters with his splendid sculpture of Tom Driver

Bert Ramelson was very friendly with a progressive solicitor in Leeds, Ron Sedler; he took up my case and argued against disqualification since my occupation (without going into any detail) required the use of a van, because I had a serious injury to my foot and wore surgical boots. The outcome was that I was fined £25.00. Ron charged me £25.00; a lot of money when you haven’t any. Lo and behold! “It’s an ill wind that doesn’t blow some good”, said Robbie Burns. A trainload of Yorkshire miners, mainly branch secretaries and delegates, were going to London on a Peace demonstration. The Union always looked after them well financially speaking, so when Bill Carr and others got to know of my plight, they organised a collection: “Watters had knocked a policeman down and we need money for his fine and solicitor’s fee”. There was no question about the response; in fact I think I got nearly one month’s salary over and above the costs.

But this couldn’t be repeated every month. Although if it had happened after the 1984/85 miners’ strike, I am sure I would have received a year’s salary!

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Chapter 7 “Nineteen fifty five was a memorable year.” Marriage, family and the Party

Nineteen fifty-five was a memorable year. The biggest post war miners’ strike had been fully successful in Yorkshire. A new mood of constructive militancy had replaced apathy and anarchy and the Communist Party was now a force to be reckoned with in the coalfield.

As for myself, a newly won full UK driver’s licence replaced the previous one I had bought for £1 in Dublin Post Office. But undoubtedly the most significant event that year was my meeting a Yorkshire lass called Freda Warner, formerly Freda Hartley before her first marriage. Two years later she was to become Freda Watters.

Pic: Frank and Freda in the early days of their marriage

We were both students at a Party school at Wortley Hall near Sheffield. Freda had a six-year-old boy, Peter, from her first marriage. He was a very attractive, fair-haired lad, full of life, but spoiled with love and affection by his grandmother who looked after him as Freda worked awkward shifts as a bus conductress.

Also at that school was Joan Brown from Rotherham, who was to become a lifelong friend of both Freda and myself. We would all go walking together and I remember Joan saying: “Frank, calm down or you will have a heart attack”. She is not the only one who has given such advice, especially when I had the scent of victory in my nostrils and certainly 1955 was such a time.

I must confess that I lacked the peacock ability to impress. I had had a sheltered youth and Freda would often remind me that she was a victim of this. The social environment of a divided religious community was not very helpful, especially when ‘Vote Watters, Vote Communist’ was painted on every public convenience and wall. What girl from a Catholic family would dare to be seen with someone of that name? And for the Protestant girls who lived in the Dykehead area of Shotts anyone from the Catholic enclave, known as the Stane, was taboo, even if they had broken ranks with the chapel. Maybe there were other reasons unknown to me why I lost out in my youth!

Of course there were girls in the YCL, but mainly in the cities and wartime restrictions precluded excursions into places like Glasgow. As a youth, most of my spare time was spent grappling with reading and attending educational classes organised by the Communist Party and the National Council of Labour Colleges.

As a committed Communist, I also spent a good deal of time campaigning for the second front for a speedy defeat of fascism and my pit job compelled me to work seven days, sometimes with overtime as well. I enjoyed the company of my workmates at weekends – a few pints and sometimes a “carry-out” to one of their homes for a good singsong or a gramophone music recital. I was also a member of the Scottish Committee of the YCL and was later elected to its national committee. Then my activities were temporarily curtailed after my pit accident when my hands were smashed.

That’s my story why, like many of my contemporaries, I was not preoccupied with girls in my youth. Some would say it was a lost youth, but I maintain it was full and fruitful with a purpose that helped to shape the rest of my life. Without it I would never have been a member of the Communist Party for fifty-three years – an association that ended only when the party left me with no choice but to join, with other comrades in Scotland, the newly formed Scottish Communist Party.

When I joined, at the Scottish TUC in 1992, Andrew Clarke, an old friend from the CPGB, asked: “Why the SCP and not the Communist Party of Britain?” I told him that at my age I was entitled to have at least a spiritual link with my past, with that with which I had been associated for over 50 years and, anyway, the name of the Scottish Communist Party was more attractive.

After the week’s school at Wortley where Freda and I met we would arrange, often ‘accidentally’ to bump into each other on a Wednesday afternoon when I was attending full time workers’ meetings in Leeds where Freda was in charge of Communist Party women’s activities. The Leeds Area Party shared rooms with the District and often we would have a coffee together in a nearby cafe but one afternoon I was invited to have coffee at her mother’s house. I readily accepted, hoping that maybe some day I would be invited to dinner to enjoy Mrs Hartley’s glorious Yorkshire puddings.

From the outset we had an easy-going attitude, not looking for the kind of lifestyle we could not afford. In the beginning Freda worked awkward shifts on the buses and I never knew from one day to another what might crop up in the coalfield, so we settled for a regular Saturday night together when we would meet at Freda’s mum’s house.

All the Hartley family met there with their children every Saturday so Peter was happy to play with his cousins, especially Freda’s niece and nephew, Susan and Robert. This meant we were free to go and enjoy a social drink. I don’t know whether it was to please me but Freda developed a taste for the “crater”, a Scottish name for a wee dram of the hard stuff, despite the fact that both her parents were teetotal.

We only had a few drinks because neither of us had much money. We made sure we had enough left for fish and chips, which we enjoyed back at home in front of the gas fire, especially when Freda’s Mum took her book to bed for a read. By this time I had a van so I was welcome to spend a few extra hours before returning to my digs in Barnsley.

After a very brief courtship we were taking each other very seriously and I was welcomed into the family. It was a close relationship that is still maintained. Freda’s mother was very understanding and it was not a problem for me to be accepted.

Unfortunately, I could not say the same about my Mother whose Catholic background and narrow outlook on pre-matrimonial relationships limited her normally generous nature. But I would say to Freda: “Don’t worry about what she says. That’s her tongue speaking, not her heart. She is as kind and loving as anyone.”

Freda and I had known each other for over twelve months when I decided to spend a holiday in Scotland to break the news and prepare the ground for the summit meeting later that year when I would have to introduce her to the family.

When I told the family they were delighted, but Mother was away on one of her rare holidays at a miners’ convalescent home. When she arrived that evening I had been down at the local. Visits home were always welcomed by old mates with the usual Scottish greeting of a few drams but I had to make sure I had all my faculties as Mother had a tongue that could cut cold iron.

As gently as I could I broke the news that I intended to marry the following year and that my bride-to-be had been married before and had a son by that union. That was all it took to provide the tinder to detonate the powder keg of her pent up moral indignation and all the years the priests had invested in her indoctrination came to maturity at once.

To crown it all, she then asked where we intended to be married. When I told her the ceremony would be in a Register Office in Leeds she retorted: “You don’t get marriage certificates at a Register Office, that’s where you apply for a dog’s licence”. What could I say? I decided discretion was the better part of valour in the circumstances and bit my tongue just in time for her next body blow.

“You say she has been married before?” Yes, I agreed. “Well, you can’t think much of yourself going to bed with someone who has been in bed with another man before!” There appeared to be no answer to that, either. I was 36, Freda was 32, neither of us were Spring chickens. I sometimes wonder what Mother would have to say about today’s liberalised attitudes to personal relationships!

When I came back from Scotland, I told Freda the family was over the moon, but that my Mother had let her tongue slip. But I was also confident that once she met Freda she would open her heart and that is what happened three months later when we visited Shotts. My Mother died in 1958, a year before our daughter Lesley was born, and Freda enjoyed her company only twice.

I was in the Soviet Union when Freda received word of Mother’s serious illness. I went up to Shotts within a few days of my return and she died on the Sunday. Coincidentally, the Shotts and Dykehead Pipe Band were parading the town’s streets before embarking on a month’s tour of the Soviet Union – their prize for winning the championship. Abe Moffatt was proudly at the head of the procession and I went over to congratulate them, but I was not in the mood to join in the celebrations.

Freda and I had married in June 1957 and I accepted Peter as our son. We had a wonderful honeymoon in Dublin as guests of the McKeown family whom I had met on holiday in the late 1940s. They were members of the Irish Communist Party and were very active in the massive unemployed movement, which succeeded in getting a member elected to the Dail, the Irish Parliament.

Later we had our daughter, Lesley, who now has two lovely children of her own, a boy, Ben and a girl, Joanne. Lesley is a trade union and political activist in her own right, a college lecturer working with trade unions. She spent many years in the YCL leadership where she met her husband, Graham Stevenson, who is a senior national official of the T&G and we are one big happy Communist family.

Sadly, Freda would not see her grandchildren as she was cruelly cut off in her prime by cancer at the age of 52 in 1977 after a mercifully brief illness. There are many consolations: the comfort I get from seeing my grandchildren, the warm, humanitarian spirit, so much the preserve of the Hartley family, evidenced by the three generations of Hartley women I have known, grandmother, mother and daughter. In that sense the generous welcome I receive in my daughter’s house is a great comfort, as is the political and sometimes social relationship I enjoy when Lesley has gone to bed and Graham and I have a nightcap!

There is no doubt that all this has been a great painkiller, but it is no real compensation for the loss of such a loving partner and Mother whom Lesley missed so much, especially when the children were born. Looking back, the only consolation is that we had 20 years together. Those 20 years that I shared with a stouthearted Yorkshire lass with a loving personality mean much to me. Above all I value the way she insisted on her independence of mind and spirit long before the phrase ‘Women’s Liberation’ came into general use.

It is often asked whether comrades’ cultural likes and understanding of each other’s ways of life help to make a good marriage. The strengths that help to make a marriage more successful, especially when both partners are heavily involved in politics, in any section of the Labour and Trade Union movement, perhaps come from sharing ideas and ideals.

If Freda had not had such outstanding personal qualities, I certainly could not have survived in the coalfield. Can you imagine coming in at the weekend with only sufficient cash to tide you over in the hope that there might be something in Monday’s post to see you through the rest of the week? Or coming home late nearly every night, exhausted after travelling miles after a hectic series of difficult meetings? What a comfort it was to know the door would still be open, and a welcome waiting with a cup of tea and a sandwich or cheese and biscuits. Or sharing a late fish and chip supper while I poured out my inner thoughts to someone who was able to judge whether I was right or wrong.

I have always said: ‘When you marry you don’t marry the Party.’ Each must have the right to a separate life and interests or hobbies, whether it be dancing, which Freda enjoyed, or spending the last hour in the club, which was my way of unwinding when I got the chance.

The most important ingredient is a mutual implicit trust in each other, sharing one another’s company when the opportunity arises. I think Freda and I practised that, never turning away from the struggle to a narrow, self-centred lifestyle as too many do. I am sure that the examples we had been set by both our families played a major part when the going got tough.

Freda’s contribution was impressive in the years we spent in Barnsley and later in Doncaster. She nourished and sustained many young, awkward ‘Mothers’ Sons!’ not least among them one young Arthur Scargill, who claims he nursed Lesley when she was a baby and uses that as an excuse to kiss her whenever he sees her now!

Immediately after our marriage I was faced with new responsibilities. I had three mouths to feed, a home to build and I had to adapt from the lifestyle I had enjoyed as a single man. The biggest problem was accommodation.

We were always made welcome at Freda’s Mum’s who kept a very comfortable home in Leeds. Lesley, who called her Nana, was always happy to spend a weekend there with Peter of whom she was very fond. She loved Nana very much, too, especially her Yorkshire Puddings! For her part Freda’s Mum enjoyed the political stimulation Freda brought with her on her visits home. Nearly all of the Hartleys joined the Party, Freda’s mum staying a member until her dying day. Freda was always grateful for her Mother’s care when she had been experiencing problems with her previous marriage. Her life-long friend, Molly Finch was also always made welcome at the Hartley home. Molly was a Catholic but her lifelong friendship with Freda transcended their ideological differences and she found a comfort at Freda’s Mum’s home which, for a period she was denied in her own. So, while the warmth and generosity of the welcome at Leeds was never in doubt it presented another problem.

My major task, alongside consolidating our trade union electoral gains in the coalfield, was to win a breakthrough in local government representation that now appeared to be a possibility in the Thorne and Moorends districts of Doncaster, but they were 40 miles away from Leeds.

The last hour in the club was no longer possible. Freda was saddled with looking after Peter and the strain was beginning to show. We discussed moving to Barnsley but a mortgage was out of the question. The only way was to borrow some money privately. Freda’s Mum agreed to help and I called on the District Party for assistance. With less than £400 from both sources I searched high and low and eventually came across a run-down shop in a dilapidated area at the top of Castlereagh Street in Barnsley town centre.

It was a case of any port in a storm and I was in a rough sea facing fog, snow and ice. Freda reluctantly agreed to forgo the relative luxury of her Mother’s home and to get stuck into fumigating the shop to rid it of the smell of stale bread and rotten fruit and vegetables until it was just about habitable despite its outside lavatory and its lack of hot water plumbing.

The great thing was that we were not left alone to do all this. The comrades in Barnsley had, up to then, held their meetings in an upstairs room on top of a shop specialising in cat food. This had just come onto the market in a big way and it attracted all the cats in Barnsley and the combination of odours was not pleasant. I used the room as an office but preferred to be out in the coalfield, so the purchase of our run-down shop was welcomed, for at least it would provide more respectable office space and a place to hold meetings.

I had spent some time in digs with Norman Greenfield whose wife, Enid, was wonderful. They had a large family but one of their sons was doing his national service so I had his room until he came out of the Army. I had spent four years in digs so any place that could accommodate Freda, Peter and me was a palace by comparison. Norman had a heart of gold, always willing to help but the problem was you never knew what the end product would be because he would never tell you.

“Leave it to me”, was his stock cryptic reply to any request. The urgent requirement was for hot water and, after ‘leaving it to him’ for a few days, he suddenly turned up out of the blue with a ‘geyser’ type gas water heater.

Hylton Stewart, a joiner, landed on the Sunday morning to dismantle some of the shop fittings; he took one look and gave his professional opinion between barely-suppressed bouts of mirth: “No teetotaller ever erected that.” When I told him that Norman, who was a teetotaller, had done it he just could not believe it and said that it reminded him of Chesterfield Church’s crooked spire.

Doug Stables and Harold Scargill, Arthur’s father, provided materials and covered up the cracks in the ceiling with a heavy paper and layer on layer of paper were stripped from the walls and we were soon able to move in. Believe it or not I moved all our furniture in my A35 Morris Minor van, making several journeys backwards and forwards to Leeds, nearly 30 miles each way. We soon settled down and we must have been happy some time as Lesley was born there. But Barnsley was still a long way from the Thorne area and it became more obvious that the key to further advance in the coalfield lay in the Doncaster, Rotherham and Worksop area, the main developing coalfield with a big influx of miners from Scotland and Durham. Again the problem was accommodation for there was no way Freda was going into another dump.

Bert Ramelson, as I have often said, fully understood and was committed to winning the Yorkshire coalfield for progressive leadership. He was more than helpful. He promised me help if I could find a reasonable place that could accommodate the family, provide a room for an office and another room that would hold 20-30 for Mining Aggregate meetings. He would ask the Sheffield bakers, Fletchers, to buy it and rent it to me. Marvellous idea and Bert sold it to “Young George” Fletcher.

The snag arose when it was to be ratified at a Board meeting. Those responsible for advising the company on its property portfolio objected that they could not justify the purchase as it was not connected with the company’s business. If I was one of their managers and was desirous of living in Doncaster, that would be fine, but the purchase of property for the South Yorkshire Area Communist Party was not on. Bert phoned me about the setback, but he had another card to play – a substantial donation from Fletcher’s “Petty Cash” account, plus his workmen to carry out any structural changes to meet our requirements. Bert had become aware that the National Party often visited “Old George” and got round the solicitors with the “Petty Cash” fund, and thus had the idea of helping me out that way. Fortunately, this came off.

This time the decorations and structural alterations were completed before we moved in and there was no question of my having to use a small van. Sam Cairns provided one of his coal lorries, collected some of his lads and called into Armthorpe to collect Eric Browne and Ted Hall. Jock Kane had our coal cellar filled so, within a couple of hours of arriving at 11 Warmsworth Road, Balby, Freda had a good meal ready and we toasted our arrival in Doncaster where we remained from 1961 to 1968 when we moved to Birmingham.

The atmosphere at Balby was completely different. Freda had a part-time job as a home help. The house was never empty. Doncaster Branch Communist Party met there and there was the Mining Advisory, the Bazaar Committee, Education Classes and a flourishing YCL. Lesley was about two years old and attracted everyone. Jock Kane used to call on his way from the Barnsley office and would slip her a few bob. Eddie Collins sent her sixpence every week, always for Lesley Patricia as he called her. A railway comrade, Arthur Sewell, would call and ask her: “What does your Daddy do?” and she would reply: “He talks.”

Yes, we were happy. Freda would go dancing every Tuesday. I could now have my last hour in the club and we had a nice park nearby where I spent some Sunday mornings walking with the kids.

The financial situation was not so serious. Freda had a couple of pounds that went away for holidays and “rainy days”. I was doing not bad with a market stall. Shelves were built in the meeting room to store bedding and other saleable goods and the cellar was ideal for the storage of goods that were not for public display. Lesley was in a very good school and Peter found a job at a slaughterhouse so we were relatively comfortable, given that our expectations were modest.

In 1967 the District Secretary, Bert Ramelson, left Yorkshire to become National Industrial Organiser. This was a big blow to me but I always recognised the importance of industrial work and there was no one better than Bert to follow on from John Campbell, who had taken over from Peter Kerrigan when he died. The problem was, who would replace Bert as District Secretary? Dave Priscott was a newcomer to the District full-time staff so he was ruled out. The one who had expressed a desire for the post was Howard Hill, the Sheffield Area Secretary. There were some comrades who had strong reservations about Howard, who was not the most diplomatic nor the most considerate comrade and who had a tendency too often to dither in a crisis.

It was not an easy choice and a number of comrades were opposed to Bert moving to London and leaving a political vacuum in his wake. Bert and I discussed it and when it became known that both of us agreed it became much easier to accept Howard as District Secretary. This left a vacancy in Sheffield, which Bob Wilkinson filled, being moved from the Barnsley and West Yorkshire coalfield. I had strong reservations about Bob fitting into this scheme because I felt he lacked modesty and collective responsibility.

I don’t know how many times we had to have special meetings to discuss Bob’s threatened resignation. We got what we asked for, because, if the District and Centre were so concerned about my financial problems this was the time for them to show their concern. I could easily have covered the Sheffield Area, at the same time keeping my eye on the coalfield, or at least be available for consultation.

But time rolled on and Howard Hill made life more difficult. The crunch came in 1967 when I received a phone call from the National Organiser, Gordon McLennan, to say that he had had a discussion with Howard and they had agreed that I should be released from the coalfield to take up the position as Birmingham City Secretary.

My reaction was cautious but I could not understand why such a proposal was discussed with the Yorkshire District Secretary without it first going to the District leadership and for consultation with the mining comrades in Yorkshire and the National Mining Advisory.

I was faced with a real dilemma. The Yorkshire District Secretary had apparently readily agreed and the way I had been treated over the Sheffield position left me with no alternative but to draw the conclusion that Howard wanted to see the back of me in Yorkshire. In no way could he argue that I was not capable of being Sheffield City Secretary since he was recommending me for the second largest city with a growing membership more than double that of Sheffield and Rotherham.

I discussed the matter that night with Freda. She knew I was not happy working for the District since Bert left. Her usual reaction was that we must decide what was best for us and what was best for the Party.

I laid down two conditions. Firstly the National Mining Advisory must be consulted and made aware of the potential dangers of the Party losing its leading role. Secondly, I was to be employed as District Staff so that we would all share any shortcomings when the District could not meet our full salaries.

I was not invited to the Mining Advisory but I was told that assurances had been given that the coalfield would continue to receive first political priority. Of course, I was cynical because neither Howard Hill nor Dave Priscott expressed any interest.

Freda and I made up our minds reluctantly. Peter had just got a job, Lesley was nine and reaching a crucial stage in her education. Freda had a part-time job and enjoyed taking Lesley every Saturday to her Mother’s at Leeds and she had made many friends. Very reluctantly we agreed to move to Birmingham.

Chapter 8 “From the best blend of Yorkshire coal to this old heap” Herculean efforts in the big city

So, moving to Birmingham was no easy decision. I had established myself in the coalfield and was now speaking one or two words of Yorkshire – at least some could understand me provided I did not get too carried away!

But, in October 1968 we landed in the Midlands after I had spent more than a year working there, living away from home and going back to Doncaster once a week. I enjoyed the same welcome there as I had when I first moved from Scotland to Yorkshire.

The District Secretary was Harry Bourne, like Bert Ramelson a veteran of the Spanish Civil War, brought up in the East End of London and a victim of racism because of his Jewish background. Mary, his wife, was born in North Yorkshire and she and Freda found an instant rapport. We soon became firm family friends, a treasured bond that endured until, sadly, Harry died in February 1974; more about Harry and Mary later.

It was agreed at the outset that I would have Fridays free. This meant that I could get off back to Freda in Doncaster in an old banger I inherited. Sometimes it would get me home under its own steam and sometimes I arrived on the end of a towrope. Jock Kane would say: “Well, Comrade, when you were in Doncaster you had nothing but the best blend of Yorkshire coal. Now you are in Birmingham where they make millions of cars and you have to put up with this old heap!”

But the weekends in Doncaster soon became less frequent. I was getting more and more involved in Birmingham. The District had acquired a site to build new premises. This meant organising voluntary labour at the weekend to clear the ground ready for the builders. The digs I was in were unsuitable for Freda to visit at the weekend so we had little opportunity to go home hunting together. After some time Ted and Hilda Baker offered me accommodation; this was just the job.

Both Ted and Hilda were working so I had time on my own to relax or do some reading and Freda was able to visit for the odd weekend. Lesley was always pleased to stay with her Grandma. While this eased the situation somewhat we were still no nearer finding suitable permanent accommodation because in the price range we were looking the houses were in many ways worse than the dump we had had in Barnsley. It soon began to tell on Freda’s patience. We were spending all weekend looking at houses we couldn’t afford or ones that were unacceptable. By the time I was into my second winter in Birmingham, the long lonely nights separating us were having their effect on her.

By contrast I was alright. I had plenty of work to occupy my time. Then one day I received a very depressing letter from home. It was obvious I had to do something and do it quickly or our future together was in jeopardy. I discussed it with Harry. By this time both he and Mary had taken to Freda. I was working hard and between us Harry and I made a good team, Harry the intellectual Marxist and myself the proletarian revolutionary. We agreed that unless we raised our sights to £3,000 plus for a house I could not remain in the Midlands. Without hesitation or even discussing it with the Midlands Treasurer, Don Brayford, Harry said: “Get off into King’s Heath. There is an estate there with scores of semi-detached houses going for three to three and a half thousand. Make a choice, get Freda down this weekend and we will take it from there”.

Just like that! What about a mortgage? The price I would get for the Doncaster house would not cover the new one and I still owed over £1,000 on that one. Then Harry had a brainwave. The Party bookshop traded under the name of Key Books. “We will make you manager and director of our enterprise Key Books Limited,” said Harry. Of course, that provided the gloss with which to convince the building society to advance the loan for the house. Freda came down and was happy with the house that we eventually found after several possibilities fell through.

We had a little cry because, not only were we asking her to leave Yorkshire but she had been left a long time holding the fort in Doncaster with no apparent prospect of a permanent home. Now I had another problem – selling the Doncaster house as quickly as possible because Harry’s brainwave was working. I applied for a mortgage and when it was delayed he got on the ‘phone demanded to speak to the manager and complaining that it was costing Key Books Limited a fortune having to provide hotel accommodation for their new “manager”. It worked. Soon we sold up in Doncaster and were once again a family, united among friends who welcomed us all.

Sid Atkin was the USDAW organiser and had no trouble fixing up Peter with a good job as a slaughter man with the Birmingham Corporation. Lesley got into a good primary school with a progressive head teacher. That just left Freda who needed to work because we had a big mortgage and the money that Peter paid for his keep left nothing to spare.

But Freda had a good reference as a home help from Doncaster Council and she was soon able to get a job with Birmingham City Council. She had two clients. One was Diane, a young mother whose husband had been killed in a car crash. Diane had sustained severe shoulder and arm injuries in the accident and she found it impossible to bath or dress her young baby. Freda found this job ideal. Not only did she fall in love with the baby but she and Diane became lifelong bosom pals.

Her other case was different. He was a war victim with shell shock, unable to look after himself and awkward and aggressive because of his illness. The house had been neglected. There were piles of old papers all over, some wet through. Food was trodden into a filthy carpet and the toilet was disgraceful. The problem was, where to start? It was hopeless and depressing. I came in for tea that evening and found Freda in tears. The small income was badly needed but she could not tackle this problem. She also feared that if she refused to take on the old man’s case she would also lose Diane and the baby to whom she had already become very attached.

We discussed the matter and agreed that the old man was just one more victim of an evil system and a society that neglected duties of care unless it was forced to deal with them. We knew that there would always be cases like the old man as long as the root causes of the social evils in a callous system remained unchallenged. I could understand an ordinary home help walking out on the job. Why should an underpaid worker have to tackle single-handed problems that should have been dealt with by the socially evil society that created them? But Freda was not an ordinary home help. She understood the real causes of the old man’s plight and realised that society was punishing him as well as those who were sent to help him.

After a long talk she agreed to go to Diane and the baby the following morning then to ‘phone for the home help service manager to meet her there where she would explain the problem. It was obvious when the manager arrived that she was upset. She had been unable to get any home help to stay on the old man’s case and Freda, with her good references, had been her last hope. If Freda could not cope with the problem it seemed nobody could.

Freda proposed that there should be a case conference about the old man’s plight involving local church representatives, the British Legion, local councillors and any charitable organisations willing and able to help. She suggested that a special squad of cleaners should be sent in to strip the carpets and furnishings and dispose of everything including bedding. At least that might give her a clean slate to start from.

She also insisted that the old man should be taken to the public baths at least once a week and that she should be allowed Fridays free to shop and prepare his weekend meals. All parties agreed and, believe it or not, the awkward old man with whom nobody could communicate responded positively. Freda was now happy with her two clients.

The sequel to the story is also interesting. The council was taking on two additional assistant social workers whose jobs were mainly to involve visiting old people living on their own and working with the blind. The senior officer for the area who had been involved in the old man’s case ‘phoned Freda and suggested that she should apply for one of the posts. This would have meant a reasonable salary and a pension. Freda thanked him but said she had no qualifications for the job, meaning she had no academic qualifications. She was also worried about my politics and feared that if the interviewers asked her what I did for a living the answer would kill any chance she might have had. The officer said that qualifications did not necessarily mean framed certificates, since the appointment was for an assistant social worker. He was to be on the selection panel and as far as he was concerned Freda had proved her abilities by resolving the old man’s problems when no one before could. The council was looking for good social workers, not document fillers. On the political question he said that if it was raised he would remind the panel that when he himself had been appointed he had been a member of the International Socialists, a party, he said, in a good-natured dig at me, which was more revolutionary than the Communist Party, which had lost its old fire!

The upshot of it all was that he persuaded Freda to apply and she got the job. She then began to worry about how she would fit into the team of a dozen or more social workers covering the King’s Heath area and about what would happen if they found out that she was the wife of the Birmingham City Secretary of the Communist Party. She did not have long to wait to find out. On her first morning at her new job they were all having a cup of tea before setting off on their rounds when one of them enquired about my occupation. Freda did not know whether to lay her cards on the table and take the consequences or to lie low for a while until she had gained their confidence by demonstrating that she was a good social worker.

She chose the latter and said that I was a manager in a bookshop. Of course this did not satisfy their curiosity. And what bookshop did I manage, they asked. Thinking nobody would ever have heard of it she told them it was Key Books. “Isn’t that the CP bookshop where Harry Bourne works from?” her inquisitor came back, quick as a flash and Freda feared the worst. “Jim Crump and George Jelf who run the camp at Talybont are associated with him, too. You are in good company. I was a member of the CP, too, until I got too lazy.”

It just goes to show how dangerous it can be to stereotype people and to make snap judgments based on the warped values of an alien society! Freda’s inquisitive workmate, then called Jo Bott is now married and lives in Dublin and will be delighted that I have recorded this incident. She and Freda became very friendly and Lesley still keeps in touch with her. Anyway, Freda settled happily into her new job and I was able to concentrate on my work without the distractions of domestic difficulties. There was certainly plenty to go at.

Pic: Frank and Freda – Christmas 1974

The Birmingham Mail described me as the “Communist Preacher” when referring to my invitation to speak in Saint Martin’s in the Bull Ring in Birmingham. This experience may have helped me later to organise many secular funerals.

One of the biggest ideological problems the early Marxists faced was a dogmatic attitude to Christian beliefs and involvement. This was reflected under Stalin’s rule where many churches and different religious denominations were persecuted, including those of Jewish origin. The Church became part of the State and failed miserably to protest about the imposition of State laws forbidding freedom to worship. This created a wrong concept that all Marxists were automatically opposed to religious freedom. Of course the Church has a lot to answer for. The Vatican supported General Franco and never lifted its voice against the barbaric treatment of Jews in Poland and Eastern Europe by Hitler and Mussolini’s fascists.

From the early 1960s, two names will go down in history for endeavouring to put this right, in spite of their philosophical differences. Two major philosophies dominated the 20th Century – Marxism and Christianity. If humanity had to survive without nuclear destruction there had to be ways and means of seeking reconciliation and a common ground for some agreement, while retaining their differences.

In 1963 Pope John XXIII issued his Encyclical letter known as “Pacem in Terres”, Peace on Earth, in which he said: “Catholics must be prepared to work with non-believers whose object is to do good.” In response, the Italian Communist leader, Togliatti, said: “The old atheist propaganda is no use. If the ordinary Catholic worker is to be won he must know what we stand for.” This opened up the way for Marxist-Christian dialogue. In France many Catholic priests consciously joined the ranks of the working class as “worker priests” but, unfortunately, Pope John XXIII didn’t reign very long. The Catholic hierarchy were not satisfied with the French experience. Nevertheless, it made both sides examine their attitude.

I was by this time being invited to union meetings where an Industrial Chaplain covered the workforce. As a result I was invited to many schools where religious instruction and Church Sunday School were part of the curriculum. Arising from this, I was invited by Cannon Bryan Green, the Rector of Saint Martin’s Parish Church in Birmingham Bull Ring, to be one of six chosen by him to speak on: “How Christianity still challenges us today.” My subject was, “In light of Communism.” The other five chosen were the Dean of Saint Paul’s, the Bishop of Southwark, the Catholic Archbishop of Birmingham, Bishop Trevor Huddleston and the Rev. Nicholas Stacey. I was the only representative of any political party in the West Midlands invited.

Once huge posters started to appear in the Bull Ring with the name of Frank Watters, Secretary of the Birmingham Communist Party, the media were soon on the job asking why Canon Green was allowing a non-believer to desecrate his pulpit. Canon Green replied that Frank Watters had earned respect for his ability to unite diverse communities and to find common ground within their different philosophies in the causes of peace, non-sectarianism and anti-racism.

This publicity attracted a large congregation – I am sure Canon Green and others would like as many every week. Included were many ultra-lefts who thought Frank had returned to the fold. Canon Green, on TV the Friday previously, defended my invitation by stating: “Frank Watters is a very good friend of mine. He is an atheist, but while there may be fundamental differences, as John XXIII says, there are areas in which we can work together.” He then went on to praise me as a “very intelligent and sensible man”, but claimed a good Communist couldn’t be a good Christian, nor could a good Christian be a good Communist. I told him that I fundamentally disagreed. After all, the Red Dean of Canterbury, while he was not a member of the Communist Party, embraced our ideas. In Yorkshire we had the Reverend Alan Ecclestone, a member of the Party who stood as a Communist Councillor and conducted many meetings in the Yorkshire coalfield, and who always claimed he “found no difficulty being a Communist and a Christian.”

Think of the millions in South America and South Africa who have found spiritual and material satisfaction from many of the churches and church leaders, but, realise their only hope lies in a Marxist Government.

In my experience, Communists have by no means always been the guilty part in our mutually bad relationship. The Catholic Church, especially in the West of Scotland, carried out personal character assassination and tried to divide family life for those who chose to be members of the Communist Party.

One of the most detested distortions of Marxism I often come across is when critics quote Marx’s reference to religion being the opium of the people. What one must remember is that Marx was writing in the middle of the 19th century, an era that the ruling class regard as the glorious years, when Britain ruled the waves. They were certainly gloriously profitable years, when war and poverty was the order of the day. Trade unionists were jailed, there was child labour, especially in the pits and cotton factories, and widespread illiteracy. In such an environment as my favourite poet, Robert Burns said: “Death can be a welcomed friend.” What Marx was suggesting was that religion was being used as a good tranquilliser in the absence of any real hope or inspiration in a heartless, soulless and spiritless society: “a sigh of the oppressed.”

Nowhere was this truer than among miners and seamen who could be classified as those who were charting the unknown. All disasters at sea and in the coalmines were Acts of God. Five miles from Barnsley, in a churchyard in a village called Silkstone, there is a monument recalling a terrible tragedy that occurred in that village during a storm and an extraordinary downpour of rain on July 4th 1838, ten years before Marx’s Communist Manifesto. The bodies of 26 children were interred in seven graves, the boys in four graves in one row, and the girls in three in a second row. On the four sides of the monument are inscribed the names of the deceased, eleven girls and fifteen boys and youths, whose ages ranged from eight to seventeen years.

Working 12 to 14 hours a day was normal, sometimes these miners never saw daylight. On this monument it says: “On that eventful day, the Lord sent his thunder and lightning and hail and rain carrying devastation before them. And by a sudden inrush of water twenty six human beings were suddenly summoned to appear before their Maker.” Then, it goes on: “Let this solemn warning then sink deep into thy heart, so prepare thee that the Lord when He cometh may find thee watching.” A visit to this churchyard should be required study for anyone trying to understand the social history of capitalism. Or the monument at the top of a hill on the Barnsley-Doncaster Road, erected to commemorate the explosions at the Oaks Colliery, on December 12th/13th 1866, causing the death of 361 miners. In fact in 18 months, between June 1855 and December 1866, 649 miners were killed in the Yorkshire coalfield, an average of almost ten per week.

All these were “Acts of God” and the coal owners had no responsibility for them. Queen Victoria was so concerned, when she read about the Silkstone disaster she sent a personal letter of condolence to the parents and ordered a special inquiry into the employment of children in the mines. The owner of the mine, Robert C. Clarke, was interviewed and didn’t think the work was suitable for girls, but he didn’t know how the parents could possibly support them unless they were working. He of course was a typical coal owner.

I hope this will bring some clarity to this question of religion being an opiate. More importantly, the long struggle of the miners’ union to win the first “Coal Safety Act” in 1911 is now under threat to clear the way for the re-privatisation of the coal industry. I only hope that there will be little need for tranquillisers, be they superstitions or chemicals in mining communities in the future. But somehow I doubt it.

I have already mentioned the new headquarters and bookshop building project that had kept me in Birmingham at weekends when I should have been visiting Freda in Doncaster. This was undoubtedly an imaginative venture that only someone like Harry Bourne would ever have dreamed of tackling. Whatever the anti-Soviet propagandists would have you believe about Russian gold, I can assure you none of it ever appeared in the Midlands to my knowledge. We could certainly have done with some of it!

The building costs alone of the new premises were estimated at £30,000, not counting internal fittings and furnishing. Some thought the whole idea was simply madness. Some of the pessimists would mockingly ask when we were going to move in, sometimes more than half hoping that we never would, just so that they could say that they were right and we really were mad. But, thanks largely to Harry’s driving force and determination, we overcame all the difficulties and the new premises, including a well-stocked bookshop, opened after three years effort in 1971.

In one respect we had been very fortunate. Two brothers, Alec and Walter McCullough had provided technical and architectural skills and their professional abilities were of enormous value. There was no doubt the new premises and bookshop brought a tremendous prestige to the Party. Students from the Universities and colleges spent hours at the weekends poring over the well-stocked left book list.

There was a problem with the hall upstairs though. It could accommodate about 100, but after a jumble sale the police paid us a visit.

The original planning approval had been for a bookshop and offices and there was only one exit from the first floor. This meant we were allowed to accommodate only a few people upstairs and we could not hold public meetings or let the hall for other meetings that might have earned us some income.

We had to comply with legal and fire regulations to enable us to use the hall as a public meeting place and this required costly alterations, in particular installing a second staircase. We had

always hoped to provide a forum for all forms of political debate, a centre to provide vital support for workers in struggle and, most important, a meeting ground for the many and varied ethnic minorities of the area. The solution was to convert the upstairs hall into a social club with financial assistance for the alterations from one of the breweries. Watneys were poorly established in the Midlands and they were looking for an outlet. Perhaps the fact that they were then marketing their new keg beer, “Watneys Red”, with advertisements portraying world Communist leaders tickled their fancy. Whatever the case, we got a decent club out of it and we were now really getting somewhere.

We were able to hold meetings that drew together all the diverse communities in Birmingham in political and cultural activities. We had weekly folk concerts, twice-weekly discos where black and white youths mixed and we had a base that became a strike centre whenever the need arose. No group of workers in struggle were ever turned away as can be testified by steelworkers, fire-fighters, health workers, construction workers and many more.

The Star Club became famous throughout the length and breadth of the country. Unfortunately it is no longer available to provide such facilities as the building was sold after less than 20 years of use for a sum less than the original construction cost. I was not involved in the financial transaction as I had made sure that the property belonged to the Midlands District of the CPGB and had by then left to return to Yorkshire. What upset me was what I was told about the decision to sell.

At the time of the sale the District Secretary was Tony McNally who claimed, quite rightly, that the lease had only a short time to run. The City Council had granted a restricted lease because they were not sure in the late 1960s what they might want to do with the site later. What Tony did not say, as Alec and Walter McCullough were in a position to know, was that the land had been zoned for catering and entertainment. There would therefore have been no problem extending the lease, provided the club satisfied the fire regulations. Of course, there were always problems covering overheads, especially with a dwindling membership, but I remain convinced the club could have been retained as a valuable asset and an invaluable social centre.

I believe the real truth is that there were those in the Party who were already planning its dissolution and that justified this asset stripping in their eyes. There is more to be said about this faction and I shall come to that later. Doubtless some former comrades will feel uncomfortable about what I have to say, but we are supposed to be being frank.

Suffice it to say at this stage that the sale of the club left me feeling particularly bitter, if only for the fact that I regarded it as an insult to the memory of comrades like Harry Bourne who had invested so much time and effort in creating a unique political and social centre.

Thinking of those Herculean efforts reminds me of the ways we had to overcome problems with the club’s construction. At one stage the project came to a dead stop because we had run out of building materials and were unable to pay the builders. The pessimists had a field day while Harry and I racked our brains to raise money, not only to pay for the building work but also to keep the Party itself afloat.

We were confident that if we could get a short-term loan to complete the building we would be able to get proper finance by depositing the deeds of the finished club as security.

Harry was a genius at raising money, but he was also highly respected. There were two women comrades in Newcastle-under-Lyme who had a prosperous business. They were always giving reasonable personal donations to the Party and to the paper but we were not talking about petty cash this time. They agreed to accept our title deeds on the unfinished building as security for a loan but the snag was, as ever, the scheme required the approval of their firm’s solicitors. This firm of solicitors took a particularly serious view of their duties to their clients and the comrades were left in no doubt that Harry’s proposition was definitely not in the best financial interests of their company.

So, we were back to square one. There was one comrade in Birmingham whom we both knew very well. A former toolmaker at the Longbridge cars plant, he had gone into business as a greengrocer and also dabbled in stocks and shares and a bit of property. His wife’s father and mother were both lifelong members of the Party so the political background was no problem, but he was far too astute to fall for the deeds on an unfinished building trick. We decided we had to put our cards on the table. We turned up and told him that we were at the end of the road. We could not raise enough cash to keep the Party going and finish the building.

He told us that, as it happened, he had put a substantial sum of money aside for a project he had in mind to convert three houses into student accommodation but he feared his planning application would be turned down. He disappeared into the loft and reappeared with this fortune in cash. Harry and I looked at each other. We could not

believe our luck. We accepted with alacrity and, as I had the car, I had to take the cash home with me. I kept it in our bedroom overnight – a night during which I can assure you I had little sleep. Years later, during the 1984-85 miners’ strike, I was often reminded of the incident when I heard about comrades running up and down the M1 with thousands of pounds in cardboard boxes. What if the car should break down? Even so, it seemed we had solved all the problems.

But, life is rarely as simple as that. As ever there was a sequel to the story. About three weeks after this stroke of astonishing luck, I had a phone call from our comrade asking me to call in on my way home. I hadn’t a clue what it was about, until he asked me into his room and casually dropped his bombshell. “I’ve got planning permission after all, so I’ll need that money now,” he said. Don’t ask how I felt. I was on my own now. Harry knew him better than I did, but he was not there to back me up. After a few moments silence the comrade asked what the matter was. All I could say was: “You know every penny was spoken for. We paid off the builders and bought more materials. We have selected the furniture and paid a deposit on it. We have two builders working now to get the brickwork done before the winter – and the money has gone.”

His reply is unprintable. I took the flak, and then made what I thought was a reasonable proposition. We were not in a position to get an overdraft but, with his property, he was. I suggested if he got a loan we would pay the interest on it until the building was finished and we could raise our own finance using our deeds as collateral. Then we could pay off his loan, I suggested. It seemed to me like a simple but brilliant plan.

He gave me a frightful look and said, “Can you imagine it. You coming up here every month with an envelope to pay my interest. Then I would have to ask you how Freda and the kids are and how the money was coming in to pay your wages. And I would get the usual reply ‘Not bad … ‘ and me knowing it would be bad, with you having to raise the extra money to cover the interest.” Then in a typically comradely outburst he said: “The last person I want to see in this house every month is you because you always make me feel guilty about my comfortable way of life compared with you and Harry who work day and night helping everybody but yourselves.” I knew I had won that round and I was moving towards the door when he muttered: “Forget about it. I will manage somehow.” I knew he would as I was confident he was not down to his last pound.

Later, when Harry Bourne took ill, he sent for our comrade and explained that I now had a heavy political and financial burden to carry, keeping the District going and building a social club of which we would all one day be proud. Later still, when it was time for me to leave Birmingham and return to Yorkshire, I approached our comrade

again and apologised that the Midland District Committee had not honoured its promise to repay loans like his on request. He replied: “Forget it. At least you spent it in the way it was given, for Party premises, a bookshop and social club.” He asked me to destroy all evidence of the loan, as he did not trust those who held office in the Party at the time – which may come as a shock to some of them. I understand he was very upset when subsequently the building was sold at a give-away price and comrades like him who had made substantial loans were not considered.

There was another episode after Harry died and I had reluctantly agreed to take on his duties as District Secretary. They did not replace me as Birmingham Area Secretary, so this meant I was in charge of the Birmingham Party as well as the Midlands District.

Every year we faced a painful, time-consuming and often heart-breaking two or three months re-registering membership. The most difficult cases were left until the end and the task was usually left to the full-time comrades. There was one old comrade who had been in the Glasgow Party in the 1920s, but he was an old drunkard. I appreciated why the Branch Secretary, Kath Barker, who was secretary to the Dean at Birmingham University, refused to visit him. I volunteered. A lifelong member could not be denied his party card, even if he was over fond of his native brew.

Sharing his life, or I should say living in Hell with him, was a sweet old lady whose health was deteriorating. She was a cleaner at a home for aged nuns. She asked to speak to me one day and I went round. I refused to give the old man an excuse to get the bottle out, saying that I was driving and that I was unfamiliar with the area. The old lady said she wanted me to accept responsibility if anything should happen to her and he was left on his own. What could I say except to enquire about what money was available?

She assured me there would be no problem on that score and showed me a bank book which would cover all expenses. I drew up a will in which I was named as executor and any money over and above funeral expenses would go to the Midlands District Communist Party. The old lady soon died and those that believe that if there is a life after death will agree she was entitled to a peaceful one, as she had suffered plenty on Earth. The old man took even more to the bottle, as he now had no one to restrain him. The way he was drinking I could see “our” little “nest egg” dwindling to the point where instead of there being any money left over we would be landed with a liability. But someone or something was on our side and he, too, soon passed away.

When it was clear that he had not long to go, I had a comrade called Bob draw his pension every two weeks and bank it. Then I got him to stay with the old man a couple of nights a week. One Thursday morning – pension day – I had a phone call from Bob about 8.30 that old Jock had died. I told him: “Hold everything. I will come straight away.” By the time I got there the Post Office was open and Bob drew the pension and paid it into the bank. Then we dealt with all the other business. There was sufficient to over all costs, but not a great surplus.

We ‘phoned the Co-op undertakers and they agreed to come on the Friday afternoon. As the body was being carried out a neighbour said: “I’m sure he left his body to medical science.” I immediately searched high and low, but I could find no documents. Then I thought maybe Kath Barker would know, so I ‘phoned her and told her what the neighbour had said. Her boss, the Dean at the University, would have access to

the department, which kept such records for the medical school. The problem was it was Friday afternoon and in those days, before the computerisation of records, it was not possible to get an answer right away. I had to wait until noon on Monday for an answer. I ‘phoned Kath again then and she said the neighbour’s suggestion was correct and put me through to the right department. I gave them details of the Co-op

funeral department and offered to pay the costs of the old lad’s “weekend accommodation” in their parlour. But they said that would not be a problem. They would collect the body and pay any expenses.

There was one more hurdle before I had discharged my obligations to the old man. He had a stepdaughter who was not even kind to her mother. She arrived on the scene to see what she could salvage. I wasn’t interested in anything in the house. I told her about the Will but said that once I’d paid all expenses I might be in debt so she was not interested in that. She asked to be informed about funeral arrangements, but when I said there was not to be any funeral she realised there should be a few hundred pounds available and she wanted a share of it.

Assuming my sternest attitude, I said I would have liked to have helped her but the law forbade it. As executor of the will I was bound to carry out the last wishes of the deceased and they were that the Midlands Communist Party was to receive the residue of the estate.

I thought once she had taken what she wanted from the house that would have been the end of the affair, but some time later I received a letter from New Zealand from the old man’s step-grand-daughter, asking for some money for her daughter who needed some help with her education expenses. It was clear that the stepdaughter had put her up to this. Again I had to be firm and carry out my legal obligations, I explained. But I told her I was arranging a memorial meeting for the old man to coincide with Burns Night and that I would send a tape recording of my address. This I did and the few hundred pounds was handed over to the Party.

All’s well that ends well, but these episodes demonstrate some of the ducking and weaving we had to indulge in to keep our heads above water and to complete the social club.

That is why some of us felt particularly upset when the club was sold off. The premises are now occupied by a nightclub and restaurant. No more will the Star Social Club occupy the central, even pivotal, role it could claim in the heady mass struggles of the 1970s – above all the Battle of Saltley Gates.

Chapter 9 “Close the gates! Close the gates!” Saltley, February 10th 1972

My close personal association with the events at Saltley in Birmingham during the 1972 miners’ strike, when engineers and building workers came out in solidarity to close the gates to coal transported into Saltley Gas and Coke Plant by scab labour, is well known.

I have written many articles and spoken at many meetings on this glorious chapter in the British Labour Movement’s history, which demonstrates that if the working class grasps the correct issue at the correct time, no power in this land can defeat it. But it must have leaders who understand the importance of such victories in building confidence. Knowing what class solidarity means; together with clarity on the role of the state and its police force is vital. Saltley certainly brought that understanding and clarity for that generation of miners whose only prior knowledge of real class struggle were the tales of their fathers or grandfathers. For the discerning reader, the story of the Battle for Saltley Gate ought to put an end to the dangerous and disruptive notion of the “New Realists” that, since capitalism has fundamentally changed, we need to replace “class struggle” by “consensus politics.” Looking back, I am personally very clear about the inadequacy of that notion.

Pic:

Saltley, February 10th 1972

Two articles of mine, which were published in the Morning Star, are included here as a appendices to this chapter and will provide the uninitiated reader with the bare facts. At this point I would prefer to deal in more depth with the run up to this event and to show that, without the earlier advances made by the Communist Party and the Left in the NUM, this victory would have been impossible. Also vital was the key position held by Communists and Lefts in Birmingham. The style of work we had developed, in building factory organisation, providing political education and winning key positions in the official leadership of the Trade Union and Labour Movement was critical. Without a shadow of a doubt the special role of Communists, who were always distinguished by their organisational capacity as well as their analytical powers and strategic vision was central. Unfortunately, such distinguishing features of Communists are challenged, since the “New Realists”, with their politics of compromise with capitalism, have now destroyed the old Party and weakened the Labour Movement.

How was it that the unlikely appearance of Yorkshire miners played a significant role at Saltley? How did it happen that Arthur Scargill was the hero of Saltley?

By 1972, the Yorkshire Area had gone through a radical change. The “Big Five” Area Officials, President, Secretary, Vice President, Financial Secretary and Compensation Agent were no longer unanimously in the control of the right wing. Jock Kane had been elected as Financial Secretary and Sammy Taylor as Compensation Agent, preventing the officials from exercising power through their own cabal.

No longer could leaders emerge from their own officials’ pre-meeting caucus before the Council meeting and say “the officials have agreed” and expect endorsement automatically from the rank and file. They now had to say: “Well as usual we have disagreed. Jock and Sammy have a different point of view.” By this time the left on the Area Council could carry the day, working on the opportunities offered by the right-left divide amongst the officials.

On the National Executive Committee of the NUM there was a similar position. There, Sammy Taylor and Jock Kane were accompanied by a rank-and-filer called Tommy Burke, from Barnburgh Colliery. Sid Schofield was now National Vice President and Sam Bullough, the President of Yorkshire NUM, no longer alone could speak for Yorkshire.

Joe Whelan, a well-known Communist, had joined Les Ellis to represent Nottinghamshire. Mick McGahey and Bill McLean were on the NEC from Scotland, Emlyn Williams and Dai Francis from South Wales and Peter Heathfield from Derbyshire. While Lawrence Daly was General Secretary.

This was a powerful group with deep grass roots support. In no way could right-wingers like Joe Gormley, Sid Schofield, Sam Bullough, or Trevor Bell of the white-collar workers, make a serious challenge against such a force. Moreover, contrary to some media presentations of the 1972 strike, Gormley was by no means the driving force behind it.

It was this transformation, particularly in areas like Yorkshire and Nottinghamshire, which made it possible to set the date, January 6th 1972, for the first national strike of the National Union of Mineworkers. (Pre-war disputes had of course been organised under the auspices of the old federation of county associations, the Miners Federation of Great Britain). The right wing was against this strike and continually complained about mass picketing, not only at Saltley, but at a complex in Scotland.

Until the end of February, the entire coalfield was united in a struggle for a just wage for the miners. Area strike headquarters were set up in Castleford, Worksop, Mexborough, Rotherham, Barnsley and Doncaster. There were no problems in militant areas like Doncaster and Barnsley. The left was relatively weak in North and South Yorkshire, but the workforce could all be won when it came to the crunch. The Barnsley strike committee was accommodated in the NUM’s Area headquarters. This meant the premises were occupied night and day.

Arthur Scargill was now the leading light in that part of the Area, occupying a central and strategic position. He was a delegate from Woolley to the Area Council and had already demonstrated his outstanding organising abilities.

Luckily, Jock Kane was strike paymaster in Yorkshire, so Arthur had no trouble in getting his troops mobilised when the information came from the NUM in London that the Midlands Area had requested help from Yorkshire and that the co-ordinator was Frank Watters at the Star Social Club. There was no need to argue about the number of buses, and the amount of away from home allowance spent, because Jock was Financial Secretary, with £2.5 million in the funds. If money was required to win the strike by getting pickets, then it would be forthcoming. Even now I can hear him say: “Spend the bloody money. Get the lads on the job and get it over with as quickly as possible.”

Jock had to have a real up-and-downer with Schofield, who was opposed to unlimited pickets. The surest way of discouraging lads from going away from home was to stop their picket allowances. I remember a late night phone call on the Tuesday to report that the AEU, the TGWU and the National Union of Vehicle Builders District Committees all had agreed to support a day of action on the Thursday. Schofield was refusing to counter-sign the cheque needed to pay the lads so that they could get down to Birmingham. Jock said to me: “This picket in

Birmingham is costing a fortune, when will it finish”. I replied: “Thursday, win, lose or draw”. Jock asked my assessment and I told him, “I think we will win, but who knows?” This decided Jock who said: “Then I will sign the cheque in spite of Schofield.”

It’s a good job the bills for sleeping bags, blankets etc. didn’t arrive until after we had won and that the Midlands Area NUM was covering the food and refreshments. Also, the TGWU was providing an unlimited supply of steak pies, which ended up not only being eaten but were also used as unwelcome missiles, which many of the scab drivers had to wipe off their faces. A friendly baker with a small family business who was in the Party churned out the pies each day.

At 11.00 a.m. on the morning of our victory, the sun broke through as if someone, somewhere was on our side. The sheer weight of numbers brought a victory. I phoned London and a TV flash soon announced the closure. The right wing was seeking to end the strike, with the excuse that the Government had set up an Enquiry under Lord Wilberforce, which promised a substantial increase. This Enquiry had been announced, not because of the action at Saltley, but thanks to the tremendous work being done in every other part of the country in stopping fuel going to power stations everywhere. Helicopters and all sorts of tricks and devices were used to try to get oil into power stations. At Thorpe Marsh, near Doncaster, a lad from Stainforth was killed in picketing duties. We asked the police to ease up while we paid our last respects on the Tuesday he was buried.

It was the fact that power stations were being stopped by widespread solidarity action that forced the hand of the Government. Industry was grinding to a halt as factories were put on a three-day week. Fresh forces constantly came in to go picketing. Students helped out in areas where there was little industrial strength and women were turning out. The miners received tremendous and willing support, as depicted on one of the banners at Saltley, “The Miners’ cause is our cause”. Victory was in any case in sight, but what Saltley did was to put the icing on the cake. To the everlasting credit of the Birmingham workers, Saltley was closed when they turned out in their thousands with a simple slogan, – “Close the gates! Close the gates!” They did the miners proud. But the miners did those lads and lasses in Birmingham a tremendous power for good – they united their Labour Movement and helped to realise a potential strength of great power.

We all rejoiced that day in the Star Social Club. Friends who had provided free bed and breakfast hospitality for pickets took the afternoon off to join in the celebration. That day ended as it began, with warmth and solidarity. An example of the constructive spirit was one instance about three o’clock in the afternoon, when we got word that a certain 20-ton lorry from Bristol which we had had “difficulty stopping” on the picket line all week was parked on the Bristol Road, only fifty yards from the Star Club and halfway between us and the Labour Club. What a problem! Everyone jumped up excitedly calling out:”Let’s get him!” I am sure they would have lynched him. I stood at the top of the steps in front of this solid phalanx of courageous and militant workers and told them firmly: “This strike has been conducted in a disciplined way – it will end like that. Leave it to me and I will see justice is done.” I have never revealed this before, but four TGWU drivers with appropriate tools rendered the offending article immobile.

The scab driver had the usual mad Alsatian dog and iron bar in his cab. Presumably, he was making a phone call to his company to explain that the plant at Saltley was shut. Either way, we never had sight of him; I expect he was scared to come near. The dog was getting madder and madder at the commotion around the vehicle. The end result was that the lorry was stuck on this busy road until it was later towed away. I am sure the police were aware of the incident, they knew where the culprits came from, but by now they had had enough for one day. So had their Government.

No history of this historical event is complete without making reference to the speedy action of the branch officers of the famous 5/35 TGWU road haulage branch and especially the Branch Chairman, Nick Bridge, who was backed up to the hilt by the Secretary and full-time official, Alan Law. I rang Brian Mathers, the Midlands Regional Secretary of the TGWU, to discuss how to control the scab lorry drivers and he told me to phone Alan Law as the key contact. But trade union officers are often difficult to contact.

Within hours Nick Bridge was down at Saltley to investigate. That same night the 5/35 branch officers made a decision in the absence of Alan Law; their members should not cross the picket line but should join the miners to reinforce their picket. Any driver who phoned for advice was instructed not to pass the Saltley picket line. Over the weekend of February 4/5, before the miners arrived in large numbers, the picket was able to persuade most drivers to respect this official line. Genuine lorry drivers who were members of the TGWU would in normal circumstances have stopped any movement of this 100,000 tons of coke; most drivers would be unlikely to proceed once they were asked to stop by official pickets.

After our experience on the Monday, when we succeeded in getting the drivers to turn round, the circumstances changed. The police, now in large numbers, were able to prevent the pickets approaching the lorries. The police now took on the role of strikebreakers and refused to observe established practices regarding the right of peaceful picketing and communicating to those involved. If that had been observed, instead of the police putting the lives of their own officers and the pickets at risk by waving on scab drivers, there wouldn’t have been any scenes of violence, but the police, as 12 years later at Orgreave, were under Government instructions to allow the delivery of this vital fuel to keep power stations working.

Alongside organising a round-the-clock rota of pickets, the 5/35 branch of the T&G, with its full time officer, Alan Law, was concerned about the welfare of the hundreds of miners, we now had to provide accommodation for. They arranged for 200 beds to be found by their own members. Another gesture, as I have said, was to send a lorry-load of steak and kidney pies. Such an abundance of good food not only brought a lift to morale on the picket line, but I will never forget seeing strike-breaking Lorries driving into the coke depot with steak and kidney pies dripping from the drivers’ faces.

A bond of friendship was sealed in this episode between Arthur Scargill and Alan Law, two powerful men but, to be fair to both, despite having a lot in common they were not of the same political mould.

Now the real battle was on, would the leadership of the NUM be prepared to fight for wage increases beyond those to which the Wilberforce Inquiry was restricted. The Report was due to be presented to the NEC that morning of the Saltley victory. By this time the lads had got the bit between their teeth. They were going from strength to strength. It was obvious the boot was on the other foot this time.

Both the Coal Board and the Government wanted the strike to end. The Wilberforce Report recommended a substantial increase of £6.00, £5.00 and £4.00, which was a small price to pay to get industry back into production. Fortunately, there were those on the left, especially Jock Kane and Emlyn Williams, who remembered what was lost in the 1926 strike. They smelled revenge and went for the prize, demanding the abolition of the penalty clause, which caused the loss of a shift or bonuses when disputes occurred. The miners had been arguing that bonuses should be incorporated into a guaranteed five-day week. Then there was the adult rate at eighteen, also a long outstanding grievance, and many more such issues like the campaign for canteen workers to get the same rate as surface workers.

This was not the time to capitulate and by an NEC vote of 13-11 the Wilberforce recommendations were rejected. This meant going back to the Coal Board, which desperately wanted the strike settled. There were no objections on their part to the wage increases, but the other long-standing grievances were a problem. The Board said “We haven’t the power to settle anything other than the wage claim, but after you are back at work we can resume further talks, including these points.”

Again an old trick, partial settlement, knowing it would take years and possibly another strike to get some of them even talked about.

Here is where the Government had to take over. The Prime Minister was Edward Heath. I can imagine senior civil servants greeting miners’ leaders, especially members of the Communist Party and others on the left, particularly the one the papers called “Red Mick.” I am told that when Joe Whelan was introduced to Heath he said, “Hello, Sailor.”

I can imagine him saying it because Saltley had provided the vital lift the men needed to take the initiative in their headlong drive for total victory. After hours of negotiations, the bonus shift was incorporated into a five-day week, the adult rate at eighteen was conceded and a string of other concessions were won which cost as much as the total wage award.

Great days that could have paved the way for even greater ones, but, as usual, the right wing who control the Labour and Trade Union Movement were afraid of workers’ power and the ‘New Realists’ had begun to appear.

“The Battle for Saltley Gates” by Frank Watters

(Reproduced from the Morning Star, Wednesday, 10th February, 1982)

Ten years ago today, February 10, 1972, will go down as one of the greatest events in the proud history of the British working class. It was the day when thousands of Birmingham workers walked out of their factories and building sites and joined the miners’ pickets at the Saltley Coke Depot in Birmingham, where a mountain of coke was piled, estimated at over 100,000 tons. That coke mountain was intended to be the Heath government’s answerto the rail workers solidarity with the miners – they had stopped all coal moving out of the pits.

On February 10 the aim was to close this coke depot and to demonstrate to the government that Brummie workers had no intention of standing idly by, allowing the police to harass, kick and injure striking miners who were only asking for £9 per week on their basic rate of £19. And when they achieved that aim the die was set. The Tories knew the power of the trade unions and the power of workers in mass solidarity had to be crushed.

Today we see that Tory aim being pushed through the Tebbit anti-union Bill. As the Birmingham workers in solidarity with the miners defeated through working class organisation the bid to break the miners, the Tebbit Bill must now be destroyed. The battle for Saltley gates in 1972 and the battle against Tebbit a decade later are part of the same war to defend the trade unions and working class organisation.

Many had come to Birmingham in the ’30s from the Welsh Valleys. Many of their fathers worked in the coal mines around Birmingham and the Black Country. They could remember the humiliation of the 1926 defeat and what followed – the mass unemployment and starvation. They had a debt to pay. And they did it with honour.

Arthur Scargill was then only a little known rank and file delegate from Woolley Colliery in Yorkshire. But he proved, in the course of the six days that this battle was to last, to be not only an outstanding organiser and leader but also a responsible one. It was Scargill who told the East District of the AUEW: “We don’t want your pound notes. Will you go down in history as the working class in Birmingham who stood by while the miners were battered, or will you become immortal? I do not ask you – I demand that you come out on strike.” He got a unanimous response, both from moderates and militants. And the Birmingham engineers became immortal within two days of that demand.

As Arthur Scargill declared from the top of the public lavatory in Nechells Square following the closure of the gates on Thursday, February 10: “‘This will go down in trade union history. It will also go down in history as the Battle of Saltley Gate. The working people have united in a mass stand.” There can be no doubt it was this act of solidarity and class understanding from the Birmingham workers which was vital in winning this battle. What was the strategy, political and social problems that had to be over-come during these hectic days, which started on Friday; February 4th?

I shall never forget the frustration and anger I felt on that Friday when I went to Saltley and saw lorries being directed in and out by the police, an average of 800 per day. And in no way was this coal going to hospitals or old folks’ homes as agreed upon by the NUM. It was clear the miners were winning their struggle for a just wage.

Power stations were being closed down. Transport and railway workers had stopped the movement of coal. Industrial stocks were low. But Saltley Gas Works had the largest and the last major stockpile in the country and it was still open. How to check it and stop the lorries was the question? I knew the outcome of this battle would be decisive.

A group of miners from Hems Heath Colliery, Stoke on Trent shared my anger when they said: “Why should this coke be allowed into the hands of unscrupulous fuel dealers whose only aim is to make a fortune for themselves?” The scab lorry drivers were on £50-£60 per day, plus £50 bonus for every load. No wonder the miners were angry. It was their blood that was in that mountain of coke and all they were asking was a basic wage of £28 for underground workers and £26 for surface and £35 for power loading workers.

The police were under government instruction to ensure this El Dorado of the most precious commodity in the city found its way into the factories and power stations to defeat the miners. On Saturday, over 200 Midland miners had arrived but their job was to monitor the lorries with NUM certificates for delivering to schools, hospitals or old folks’ homes. All that was happening was that drivers were passing the certificates on to each other.

Jack Lally the secretary of the Midland miners was in charge. I approached Jack and introduced myself as secretary of Birmingham Communist Party. Jack’s politics were completely different from mine but we had something in common. We both came from mining stock and our political differences were not the order of that day. The main issue was how could we stop these lorries; how could we get the Birmingham working class to help, because I was of the opinion win Saltley and we will win the miners’ struggle.

Jack got his first taste of Peaceful Persuasion when he tried to exercise his right. The police instructed the lorry drivers to accelerate so that the traffic could move faster. Jack got out his camera to ensure he had proof. But instead of taking any pictures, he was nearly knocked over by a fast moving 20-ton lorry. It convinced Jack that help was needed.

Together we went over to the Star Social Club, which is the headquarters of the Communist Party. All I can say, and Jack I am sure will endorse it, for Jack Lally to sit down and talk with the secretary of the local party is like getting Ian Paisley to have a friendly chat with the Pope. But in the Star Social Club we both willingly had that chat.

What a challenge! But what a prize, miles away from any pits, Birmingham was to become the centre of struggle and I was so proud to be part of it. Fresh from their success in East Anglia and Yorkshire power stations, Arthur Scargill’s lads were now in no mood to see any mountain of fuel being moved. And when miners’ leader Lawrence Daly told them of the nearly 1,000 lorries per day moving nearly 40.000 tons of coke at Saltley they got the bit between their teeth. and no police force was big enough to defeat them. But there were still big problems of organisation and little time.

What about accommodation? Trade union halls and rooms were closed because of the weekend. And it was no use trying to get B&B in any hotel with no money. There was, of course, plenty of room in the local police stations, which many of the miners sampled before the week was over. But I did not fancy making such a request. Finding accommodation was a nightmare. But, then again, some inspiring experiences of working class solidarity came out of this.

How was it done? Don’t ask me, but I am sure I will be forgiven if I only mention one name – Moira Simmens, the secretary of the Birmingham Labour Party. Moira, like so many in the working class was the salt of the earth, never appear in newspapers or books, but their contribution to many victories like Saltley is indispensable. A bond of friendship and mutual respect between the Labour Party and the Communist Party was sealed during this struggle. We were jointly engaged on the good cause of winning a victory for our class.

It was clear that we were in for a hard battle. On the Sunday morning we managed to mobilise sufficient forces to stop any of the lorries going in. And the police decided to call it a day and the gates were closed.

On Sunday afternoon West Midlands police leave was cancelled. The Town Hall was booked to give them instructions, which were loud and clear. Saltley Gas Works’ gates must be kept open in the coming week. By this time, hundreds more miners from Yorkshire and Wales had arrived. Accommodation became a bigger headache. But when I explained to Arthur Scargill about the size of the job he said: “You asked for them, it is your job to provide accommodation.”

It was easier said than done, but what a response there was from the Working Men’s Clubs and a big Irish Club in the centre of Birmingham. Moira and her team were overwhelmed and the Star Social Club, a focal point, provided a pint of beer, scones and pies, which had been baked during the night.

By Monday the Transport and General Workers Union had moved into action. Full time organiser, Alan Law, was the commanding officer, and what a helpful role he played. “Stay with the miners until they win,” was his instruction. No expense was too great. Mobile canteens for hot tea and soup arrived followed by a van with hundreds of pies, specially baked during Sunday night. Monday was a successful day. Lorry after lorry was turned away. The lads thought it was going to be a cakewalk. With a reasonable allowance, free accommodation and a friendly city welcoming them, they looked forward to their stay in Birmingham.

Tuesday, however, was a nightmare. On Monday it had been members of the TGWU who had turned away on request. Now, cowboys, inspired by greed, brought Alsatian dogs, iron bars and sticks to force their way through the picket.

There were more policemen. And there were more pickets. I thought someone would be killed that day. And it was a very near thing. Just after 10 a.m., a scab driver put his foot down and drove his lorry into the pickets and police. Three policemen and two pickets were injured. One of these was a Chief Inspector. But, instead of taking action against this driver, the police allowed him in and out with his load. In fact, as soon as the ambulance cleared away the injured, the battle began again.

It was becoming obvious that the miners could not win on their own. They were stretched – other miners were involved in their own Saltley Gates. What was needed was local reinforcements and that was only possible from the big local engineering factories. How to get this was the problem. The answer lay in getting leading shop stewards to come to Nechells and see the battle for themselves. Here, local knowledge and local contacts with leading shop stewards played a vital role. They came, they saw and they were convinced something had to be done. Now, not only was the message being related to the workers in these factories, but on the same night, two vital meetings, the East District Committee of the AUEW and the Vehicle Builders, were taking place – two unions whose support was vital.

Arthur Scargill won their full support. And within 18 hours, nearly 400 shop stewards at a special meeting endorsed that support. On Wednesday we agreed to play the picket line with a low profile.The main work was in the factories. But one thing did happen that day which I will always remember. The women from SU Carburettors gave up their dinner hour and bought all the cigarettes, chocolates and crisps from their canteen and marched to greet the marchers. Yes, there were tears in many eyes as they grabbed these gifts like manna from heaven. In London the Cabinet discussed reinforcement.

But the West Midlands Chief of the Police, Sir Derrick Capper, advised the government he could handle the pickets. He must have thought we’d had enough on Tuesday – hence the reason for the low profile on Wednesday. But he was wrong. We were mobilising a massive force – an army of workers determined to take on the police and even the armed forces if the Cabinet was foolish enough to contemplate such a confrontation. I tell you, if the army had been used, no factory, no shop, no transport would have moved in Birmingham. But the 64,000-dollar question remained – would the workers respond?

Thursday morning started, in the usual way. About 6 a.m. the picket lined up at the gates. The police, in their usual military style marched to their positions. It is a frightening sight when you see over 1,000 policemen backed up with their truncheons and horses, and you have no defence. The police were stopping the coaches bringing support from Wales and searching for weapons to delay them. Little did the police know they were doing us a good turn – we knew the factory workers would not come until well after 9 am.

Word was sent to the Welsh pickets leave your buses, walk to Saltley. And they did. In the rush hour when the factory workers were going in, with usual Welsh cheer. They called on the Brummies: “Come and join us.’ Building workers on site joined them and soon the ranks were swelling. The police were in an affable mood. Public opinion was not on their side because of the reports of brutality and they were responsible for it. And they knew it.

Thousands were also on the march from Washwood Heath, the big Rover plants in Acocks Green, moving slowly to allow workers from the massive Rover factory six miles away in Solihull to catch up. No traffic moved, only bodies blocked the road chanting: “Close the Gates”. Then they came over the railway bridge with banners and cardboard placards made that morning.

Nothing could be seen, except thousands of human beings outnumbering a by now increasingly subdued police force aware its battle was about to be lost. The Chief Constable had been proven wrong. He had never bargained for this – he did not understand the deep-rooted loyalty of our class. The tables had been turned with a vengeance. From the other side of the city workers from Lucas GKN and others were still on the road to Saltley. The roads were blocked with workers from all walks of life welded together by a burning urge to answer the call of the miners for Birmingham workers to become immortal.

The human sea was too strong to hold back. The police dared not use their batons. The police backs and legs were being crushed by this human sea. If they had not given in they would have landed through the gates and all hell would have been let loose if the workers had got into the Gas Works.

At 10.45 a.m. that morning, Thursday, February 10, the gates were closed. I do not know if it was a coincidence, but the sun broke through and shone on a cheering and jubilant 10,000 workers And many hard men from every coalfield openly wept as Arthur Scargill expressed his deepest thanks for making February 10, 1972 an outstanding date in our glorious history.

“Salt of the Earth” by Frank Watters

(reproduced from the Morning Star February 10th 1992)

The victory of Saltley Gates, 20 years ago on February 10, 1972, was one of the proudest moments in the history of the British working class; thousands of Birmingham workers walked out of their factories and building sites to join miners picketing the Saltley coke depot.

The mass picket closed the depot, stopped the movement of coal supplies – and helped ensure victory in the 1972 national miners’ strike. The Wilberforce inquiry, set up after Saltley, granted £34.50 for face workers, £25 for others underground and £23 for surface workers – and all the miners’ other demands.

I well remember the frustration and anger I felt at Saltley on Friday, February 4th. The miners’ national strike had been going for nearly six weeks. Power stations were being closed. Transport and rail workers were blocking the movement of coal. Industrial stocks were low. Saltley had probably the largest stockpile in the country – and about 800 lorries a day were calling at the depot, under police supervision. No way could that have been fuel for hospitals and old folk’s homes, as agreed by the NUM.

The weekend that followed, more than 200 Midlands miners arrived, led by Jack Lally, general secretary of the Midlands NUM. They tried to check that the lorries had exemption certificates but the scab drivers, who were on £60 a day plus £50 bonus per load, just passed the certificates on to each other. Anyway, the police would not allow miners the right to picket peacefully.

Contact was made with the Barnsley strike committee in which Arthur Scargill, at that time branch delegate at Woolley colliery, played a leading part. Fresh from their success in East Anglia, the Yorkshire lads were in no mood to see the Saltley fuel mountain being moved. The flying pickets arrived. Local trade unionists provided accommodation and food supplies.

On Sunday, February 6, the lorries were stopped and Saltley’s gates were closed. But the police were instructed that this was not to happen again and they mobilised large forces. On the Monday morning, battle was joined. Our side was backed by Birmingham workers; mobile canteens provided hot tea and soup, and a van full of pies arrived. Most were eaten, some were used as missiles.

The scab drivers, inspired by greed, brought Alsatian dogs, iron bars and sticks to force their way through. On the Tuesday, a scab driver injured three policemen and two pickets. The police waved him through. It was obvious that the miners could not win on their own. So, that

Tuesday evening, Arthur Scargill addressed the Birmingham East district committee of the engineers’ union AUEW and appealed for active support.

“We don’t want your pound notes,” he said. “Will you go down in history as the working class in Birmingham who stood by while the miners were battered – or will you become immortal? I do not ask, I demand that you come out on strike.” The response was unanimous and positive – as it was from a meeting of vehicle builders that evening and a further meeting of 400 shop stewards on the Wednesday.

The Thursday morning picket started in the usual way. The pickets took up positions at 6 a.m., and the police marched up military-style with their truncheons and horses. Coach loads of miners from Wales were held up as police stopped and searched them.

Then we received word that thousands of workers were on the march – from Lucas, GKN and other factories. From the big Rover plant in Acocks Green, they took it slowly, to allow the Rover Solihull contingent to catch up. Traffic was brought to a halt. Bodies jammed the road, shouting: “Close the gates” and singing: “We will not be moved.” By 10 that morning it was a human sea. The backs and legs of the policemen trying to contain it were on the point of being crushed. At 10.45 a.m., the gates were closed. By coincidence, the sun broke through the clouds just then. The 10,000 pickets were jubilant – many hard men wept.

Saltley was a victory – but the labour movement was not properly prepared for the inevitable counter-offensive by it.

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Chapter 10

“New Territory of Class Struggle” – the diversity of Birmingham

Birmingham was a tremendous experience. I had travelled a long way in the 15 years since I buried my pick and shovel, in a small Scottish mining village. First graduating to a rural county in West Lothian, then to Barnsley and Doncaster; small towns that could be described as overcrowded villages.

This was different – Britain’s second City and the capital of the West Midlands, sprawling into the famous counties of Stafford, Warwick, Worcester, Hereford and Shropshire. Along with the great industrial conurbations of Coventry and Wolverhampton, there were many more large towns and boroughs; a population of a million plus, containing the most widely skilled workforce of any comparable city in the world. The cradle of the industrial revolution, for nearly two centuries, the West Queen Victoria in the city centre is a vivid reminder of that imperial era, when Kipling talked of India as the “jewel in the crown” of the once mighty British Empire.

Yet when I had a chance to visit areas like Aston, Small Heath, Saltley and Handsworth, I was appalled at the slums, the social and industrial decay. I could understand that the different parts of Birmingham were not divided by geography but by the much greater gulf that separated the ruling and the working classes. It was also obvious that the wealth made in the jewellery quarter near Handsworth didn’t find its way into making for the men, women and, yes, the children, a more civilised environment, but, as usual, to satisfy the greed for profit of people like Herbert Austin, who made his fortune in these areas before he set up his massive car factory in the Worcestershire countryside of what is now Longbridge, Birmingham.

Following the Second World War, Birmingham industry was booming, the only shortage was labour, especially unskilled labour to work in small factories and foundries that provided the car industry with their components. All nationalities and all colours were welcomed with open arms. Afro-Caribbeans and Asians from the Indian sub-continent provided the bulk of bus drivers. The Asians provided the manpower for dirty sweatshop foundries. The Irish came in boat loads, as in the famous “Dubliners” song, to join McAlpine and John Laing, the building contractors.

Others went into the car industry and other manufacturing employment. But the initial welcome was short-lived and by the late sixties, when I arrived, Enoch Powell was talking about “Rivers of Blood”. He claimed the West Midlands was becoming “a black man’s haven”. Getting jobs had not been easy in the beginning – the first black bus workers in Wolverhampton in 1958 had been greeted by a strike and the Union, the T&G, like most unions, turned a blind eye to racism. Not many black workers were employed in British Leyland, which had a labour force of nearly 30,000. Certainly not as toolmakers, or any other highly skilled trades. The excuse was that to be a toolmaker you needed a high standard of literacy and the only educational books the great empire builders provided was the Bible.

All this was a new territory of class struggle. We had plenty of “black men” in South Yorkshire, but a good shower soon changed their colour! I was fortunate. Because of my political and social upbringing, I can safely say I have not a drop of racist or sectarian blood in my body. This helped me to establish a rapport with the main ethnic minority groups, the Irish, Afro-Caribbean and Indian communities.

The Irish Civil Rights movement was now on the political map. Bernadette Devlin had been elected as Westminster MP for Mid-Ulster on a `people’s democracy’ ticket. A tremendous victory, but she had a very narrow sectarian attitude. As an MP, she failed to establish links with the British Labour Movement. Whilst the trade union and Labour movement, just as with the struggle against racism, avoided the Irish question like the plague. I was under no illusion that this major political issue couldn’t be swept under the carpet and that, when the crunch came, the anger and frustration of the Birmingham people, would be turned on the Irish people at work and in the community as the struggle got bitter.

This was precisely what happened in November 1974, when twenty-one innocent people were murdered and many others were mutilated in a city centre bombing. The Star Club was close to the scene and I remember well the horror of that night. The next day, all hell was unleashed, with anger never before witnessed in the City. This led to spontaneous walkouts in factories and on building sites with attacks on members of the Irish community, especially as a large proportion of pub managers were Irish. Here is where the role of the Labour Movement was vital.

Shop stewards met that weekend and called for calm. Many of the stewards were Irish. On the Monday morning, meetings were held at the major factories, which helped to take the sting out of the understandable anger. The various religious denominations, especially the Catholic Church, came out to condemn the massacre and appealed to the people of Birmingham not to be provoked or to join the anti-Irish racist demonstration called by Enoch Powell supporters. Posters soon appeared, calling for a demonstration on Monday afternoon and hoping for a massive walk out. We phoned the police and to their credit the posters were soon removed. Unfortunately, the unity of the Churches and the Trade Union Movement was short lived. If only the lesson of the need to contract in had been absorbed, the movement could have helped to get a political solution to the “Border” question. Maybe, also, the innocent men known as the Birmingham Six wouldn’t have to spend 16 years behind prison bars, and the energy used in the campaign to prove their innocence could have been harnessed for a just solution.

Before the November 1974 bombing there were many demonstrations organised by the Birmingham Civil Rights Campaign. A massive one with 5,000 plus marched through Birmingham on Saturday, February 5th 1972. This was also the time of the national miners’ strike. I wanted the Midland NUM representative (who by this time had arrived at the Saltley Coke Works) to address this rally and call for support for the miners. Pickets were now being organised to come to Birmingham, but the majority would not arrive before Monday. I got the reply I expected: “We don’t want to get mixed up in the Irish question.” My reply was: “If you are to win the working people of Birmingham for the miners’ case, you will need the Irish as they are a large section of the Birmingham workforce.” What I did get was permission for someone to make the appeal.

I had in mind the right person, Sean Kenny, active in the Civil Rights Movement, leading shop steward at Longbridge and Secretary of the Birmingham Connolly Association. You couldn’t get better credentials and Sean did the job, appealing for them to attend early mass and come to Saltley to join the miners. They responded and those who hadn’t attended early mass still had time for the late mass, because the police were only acting as traffic wardens and they soon closed the gate. This appeal also helped when hospitality was required. Many in the Civil Rights Movement appreciated the role of the Communist Party, for by this time we had built our Social Club where they held many of their meetings and gathered on a Saturday night for a pint of Guinness and a good old singsong.

I mentioned the Connolly Association, of which many readers may not have heard. I am not surprised, because I had occasion to apply for a Sunday afternoon licence to commemorate the 1916 Easter Rising, after which James Connolly, one of the leaders, was shot. The usual procedure was that you had three magistrates and on this occasion one was the Trades Council Secretary, Dave Perris, now Sir David, who knew me since we were jointly involved in many demonstrations. Dave asked permission to be allowed to leave as he was a personal friend of the applicant. Now there was a large mental hospital in the Rubery area of Birmingham, which was known as the Connolly hospital. The Chairman of the bench asked if I was the Secretary of the Social Club at this hospital. I refrained from bursting into laughter and, with my tongue in my cheek, I explained the association I was representing was planning an event to commemorate the death of an Irish patriot, James Connolly, and it was a bit like what we have in Scotland, the Robert Burns Association. I left it at that and the licence was granted. I think Dave Perris saying I was a personal friend, and my making sure that the other two magistrates were no wiser as to what the Connolly Association was did the trick. It’s nice to have friends in the right place and sometimes ignorance can be a blessing! Sean again did a good job reading the 1916 proclamation and in good spirits we celebrated the Easter uprising.

The Indian communities were mainly in what was known as the Black Country area, so-called not from its ethnic mix, but from the dirty environment caused by industrialisation. Once famous for chain making, the products of which were used in large ships like the great Atlantic liners, foundries dominated the area.

These foundries were by my time largely producing for the motor industry and the railway carriage business of Metro-Cammell. They were real sweatshops with little or no modernisation since the turn of the century. Open furnaces with smelting heat, to which the white man said “no thank you”. The workers were not unionised, because the union that dominated was the Amalgamated Engineering Union, which was content to recruit mainly skilled workers. In 1972 the TGWU was able considerably to expand its existing interest in the car industry, when it took over the National Union of Vehicle Builders. Jack Jones, then General Secretary, set the aim of two million members as the Union recruited massively in every sector and workers originating from the Indian sub-continent were an ideal target.

But there were problems – one was language, but there was a more difficult one. These workers were not seriously recruited into the unions, but had been organised for many years into their own political, cultural and social formation the Indian Workers Association. A very powerful and progressive force, it was unfortunately divided into two, and later even more, political groups who reflected the major split between the Communist Parties of China and the Soviet Union and a parallel, but not exactly similar split in India, resulting in two Communist Parties there.

This not only divided the Indian people, but Joshi, one of the Maoist leaders in Birmingham, saw membership of the IWA as more important than belonging to a trade union, in fact he argued that the IWA should represent members who were involved in any industrial dispute. What was needed was for the unions, especially the TGWU, not only positively to recruit black members, but also to provide educational facilities to enable elected shop stewards to be able to negotiate at all levels with management.

Secondly, it was necessary to demonstrate that the union had come a long way from the racist bus workers’ strike in Wolverhampton. There was one Communist TGWU officer, Don Higgs, who sadly died a few years ago, who was tremendous in assisting black shop stewards and black workers in getting better working conditions and rates for the job. He demonstrated that there were no contradictions between being a member of the IWA and the TGWU. Don also helped to bring these factions together on practical issues. As an aside, recently the IWA was largely reconstituted on a united basis, all major groups coming together at long last.

I often wondered why no black officer had been appointed in this area, given the big proportion of Asian workers in the TGWU. It was not because there were no black workers capable of holding office. Here we had a classic example of a failure to face up to racist propaganda. Enoch Powell and his mouthpiece, the Birmingham Mail, claimed that the TGWU was becoming a “Black Man’s Union”. I believe that fear of this sort of propaganda resulted in the Union being afraid to appoint black full-time officials.

In 1970, with the growth of the union in the Midlands, a vacancy for a District Organiser’s post in West Bromwich occurred. None other than Bill Morris, later the union’s leader but then a young and up-and-coming convenor in Hardy Spicer applied and was rejected. Danny Bryan, a member of the Young Communist League, holding no serious position in the Union, was chosen instead. I often wonder what the members of that panel must feel now that their union is headed by the black man they rejected for just a simple district officer’s position. Despite this setback, Bill was then elected in 1972 to the General Executive Council, sitting alongside the respected Communist Jock Gibson, convenor of the Ryton, Coventry car plant. Late in 1973, Bill was appointed as an officer in Nottingham. Far away from the centre of the region and the communities where he was so badly needed.

Danny Bryan’s appointment caused a big problem. A leading lay member in the TGWU Region was Jim Falconer, my Jock Kane of the Midlands and another incorruptible rebel. He bounced into my office with all guns firing. He didn’t ask any questions but laid into me with the fire and venom this Scot possessed. I let him carry on because my conscience was clear. Anyone who knows me will know that if I am innocent of the crime alleged, then I don’t worry. Then, I found my temper, which is better then losing it, and Jim came off second best. I showed him minutes of our district secretariat criticising Danny for applying for the position. I never for a minute expected Danny, at that stage at any rate, to be a serious challenge to Bill Morris. The outcome was twofold. Jim, like many other hard-hitting comrades, respected honesty and integrity and a bond of friendship was established. Proof of that is that, even though I had left Birmingham when Jim died, he requested that I give his funeral oration, along with Brian Mathers, Regional Secretary of the TGWU, and Sid Easton, his companion in the long struggle against bans on members of the Communist Party holding office within the TGWU.

The only other time I was subjected to the fury of this dour Scotsman he won the round. When his wife died, Jim requested that I say a few kind words at her cremation. After this, he sent for me and explained he had drawn up a will and there would be some money for the Party when he went. He got me to swear that I wouldn’t tell Harry Bourne, the District Secretary of the Midlands Communist Party, because he knew Harry wouldn’t wait that long before he had his hands on it for the Party. “Yes, Jim. I promise”, but I thought Jim was a bit unfair, as no one had done more than Harry to keep the Party viable. One Thursday morning, Harry called me into his office for a discussion regarding the usual prospect of no wages that week. I then broke my confessional vows and told Harry about Jim’s nest egg.

The inevitable happened. Harry said “Well, you are closer to Jim than any of us – ask him for a £100”. By this time, whenever I was in the area, I would drop in and have a crack with Jim, who was retired and living on his own. I was always welcome, but this time he went berserk when he discovered I had told Harry. I couldn’t defend myself, but I had a good idea my visit was not in vain and, after all, what’s in words if the £100 was forthcoming? His final words were: “Here’s the £100, but never, never ask again until you press that bloody button and then you can do what you like”. When I phoned Harry that night at home he was delighted, but I said never again. I was prepared to do a lot for the Party, but not to face Jim Falconer about the money he had tucked away! I never did get to know what was in that drawer as I had left Birmingham when Jim died, but I do know that Jim, given the way the Party was going, would have given me absolution.

Then there was a large Afro-Caribbean population. They were more fortunate than the Asians, because their first language was English, but they weren’t as political as the Indians. Here again, the Star Social Club was a tremendous asset to them with a highly popular reggae disco at the weekend, bringing both black and white youngsters together. During the campaign for the release of the black American Communist, Angela Davis, who was framed on a murder charge in California, my connections as the Secretary of the club and also with the popular (and pleasingly, now famous) Andy Hamilton Jazz Band, helped in conducting the widest and most imaginative campaign in any part of Europe. Thousands of black and white youths wore “Free Angela Davis” tee shirts and badges in Birmingham. A packed meeting was held in Digbeth Hall with a guest speaker from Birmingham, Alabama, where Angela was born. She was finally set free and wrote a wonderful autobiography of her experience waiting for the death sentence that could have been imposed, if it had not been for the worldwide campaign.

Afro-Caribbean youth suffered more police harassment than any other of the ethnic minority communities. This meant we had to be ever vigilant to ensure the police had no excuse to raid the club. The group of lads who ran the disco were marvellous – a better bunch you couldn’t have wished for. There was one occasion when this harassment went beyond any normal surveillance. One Sunday night there were police vans and cars all around the club. We made an appeal to the youngsters to be more than usually careful because of the police presence and promised we would do something to put an end to this unnecessary provocation. I visited Digbeth Police Station and asked to see the officer in charge and the Inspector in charge of race relations. Neither were available, but I requested a meeting between all responsible and the lads who ran the disco. This took place with six of the top police in this field of work.

We were on the offensive, claiming that these lads were doing more to bring black and white young people together with supervision second to none. No drugs, no excessive alcohol being consumed, hundreds off the streets, so why the harassment? The usual excuse was given – it wasn’t the regular force that was on duty that night, there had been trouble at some other nightclub and a squad had been brought in from Nottingham. This didn’t wash with me, as the heavy police presence was observable before 9.00 pm. I then made a proposition that those responsible for race relations could come into the club any time provided it was to observe, but they must not have any uniform on. We would ask the youngsters to make their way home as soon as possible when the disco ended. This meant there should be no need for police in the vicinity. It worked. The lads were delighted that someone was able to stand up for them without being intimidated. Lesley was in charge of the bar and the takings on disco nights and she couldn’t have been better protected and loved by all those lads.

I have mentioned the Angela Davis badge. Actually, producing badges became almost a trademark of mine. Many people will not realise that because of Birmingham’s long – standing jewellery quarter, badge making is an art practiced there in a way that has made it become a world-famous centre. I found out very quickly, the political and financial value of badge-production. Many people called me the “Badge King”, since I seemed to be the source of all major badges favoured by progressive movements in the 1970s. But, to be honest, the real Badge King was the Managing Director of a leading jewellery quarter firm, with whom I struck up a professional and personal friendship. Though he was an arch-Tory, he and I enjoyed a very personable relationship. He is such a nice man that I will do him the great honour of not mentioning his name!

The first success I had was with the Angela Davis badge. We saw the material produced in the USA and it was clear that Angela’s persona was so attractive it would feature well. But American badges are huge; we British prefer more discreet models. Armed with a British design version, our activists toured Handsworth, and central Birmingham, selling vast numbers of this highly popular badge.

This success was nothing compared to the sales of the “Kill the Bill” badge, which in the lifetime of the 1970-4 Tory government, put the movement’s opposition to the Parliamentary Bill, which ended up as the Industrial Relations Act. Even the TUC was spurred into action. A massive demonstration was called – possibly one of the largest ever to date, with at least a quarter of a million people assembling in London

It was so large that Trafalgar Square was full whilst people were still assembled in their tens of thousands, bored stiff sometimes; waiting for hours in Hyde Park before they could march off. We organised a massively chartered trainload down from the Midlands.

In my bones, I knew much of this would occur. I had already developed some excellent relationships with key trade union figures on this issue of free trade unionism back when the Labour Government had proposed its own, milder version of the Industrial Relations Act – Barbara Castle’s “In Place of Strife”. Brian Mathers’ predecessor Harry Urwin, who went on to be Jack Jones’, number two, had been brilliant on this. We therefore had little difficulty, given our base, which was then substantial, in the AEU to bring the Regional TUC round to a major campaign on the

Bill.

The TUC entered the debate with the unknown and unremembered slogans “Stop the Bill”, or “Oppose the Bill”, our position was considered too harsh – “Kill” was a naughty word. Even so, the hundreds of thousands who marched shouted “Kill the Bill” and bought “THE” badge in tens of thousands.

I had anticipated this. I mobilised the Midlands YCL, some of whom were a little sceptical as to the possibilities. Each seller found themselves selling two, three or even four thousand badges. At ten pence a time this was a considerable sum and I could afford to allow a reasonable discount to the YCL for their own use. My daughter joined many others from the Midlands YCL that day. Everyone who mingled with those delegations waiting in Hyde Park must have been personally changed by the experience. A Young Communist who could interchange with thousands of class-conscious workers and make money for their own organisation, so that it could more effectively campaign was a proud Young Communist. There were very few people marching without a “Kill the Bill” red badge. How embarrassed the General Council dignitaries must have been.

Emboldened by this badge making success, and remember we carried on marketing the badge after the demo, it occurred to me after the dreadful military coup in Chile in September 1972, that we could do some good work here. Especially as it was an international issue. I had discovered that my friend the “Badge King” was manufacturing badges for the World Federation of Democratic Youth, effectively a kind of youth Comintern, which along with internationals for women, journalists, trades unionists and others had survived Stalin’s effective “suicide” in 1942 of a formal world Communist party. I saw the chance of a percentage profit for ourselves in such a massive business and still see no reason why not. After all, more funds would have been channelled into struggle from a legitimate business activity.

I got a badge produced, based on a design of the Chilean flag intertwined with barbed wire, and had it inscribed “Solidarity – Chile”. Then it hit me – put the words in every possible language! e.g. “Solidarité – Chile”, “Solidarnosc – Chile” (before anyone had ever heard of Lec Walesa!), “Solidaridad – Chile” and so on. Russian, German, Swedish – you name it. But the one I still recall with fondness – there are in fact only six demonstration models in existence – was the Chinese version. Unfortunately, the Sino-Soviet conflict was still sharp. Just because the Soviets were in opposition to an American manipulated coup, the Chinese leadership recognised the Junta and was of course therefore unlikely to want any badges! Even so, this badge was stupendously successful. For some reason, I could never seem to motivate the national YCL leadership on this or any other badge issue. This was daft, since YCLers were crazy about badges, just as young people are today. The trouble was that the revisionist, Euro -Communist or “Euro”, element was firmly in control of the YCL. They hated WFDY and just ignored my suggestions that we try to get involved.

Fortunately, the Midlands YCL was not so stupid. I proposed a project that the League could not resist. Linking up with the Chile Solidarity Campaign, I proposed an excursion to France to sell the customised French badge at the French Communist festival organised by their paper “L’ Humanité”. My daughter Lesley, Graham Stevenson and Martin Parker, the son of a former Nottinghamshire miner and subsequently Birmingham polytechnic lecturer, went off to France with an official of the CSC. They stood in pouring rain for three days, the mud coming up to Somme standards. Perhaps the punters thought their broken French implied that they were in fact Chilean. Perhaps they pitied them for being so wet and so muddy, whatever the score, the Midlands Party, the YCL and the CSC all culled a very large amount of money. It is pleasant to record that so many years afterwards Martin and his wife Margaret are the closest friends of Lesley, Graham and their children.

Linking good design with good politics was and is crucial. There were many badges after that and it is not often appreciated just how many originated from Birmingham, with the local Party and YCL behind them. Sometimes we designed them for unions, sometimes for ourselves, but we never got it wrong! We always gauged the mood of the mass of ordinary workers exactly right. I like to believe that the great amount of badge and sticker activity in the Seventies, associated with the Midlands Communist Party, may have had some influence in the wave of affection for badges and stickers in the 1984/85 miners strike. Perhaps even more decisively in the present considerable interest in union badges, which has become a recognised activity of serious collectors.

I had quickly acclimatised myself to Birmingham, but it wasn’t easy to grapple with the complexity of the structures of the various unions. Previously, I had only to be concerned with one main union, the NUM, and once we got the National Power Loading Agreement and a National Day Wage, problems were fewer and confined to the national level. But in the car industry the employers claimed they couldn’t regulate the selling price of the car, because of the fluctuation of the sometimes substantial wages earned under the piecework system. There was a school of thought, similar to that in the mining industry, that the unions were piece-workers’ unions or were only interested in upping the skilled workers’ rates. Dick Etheridge, an outstanding convenor at Longbridge, a real black-country man and a well respected Communist, argued that if he “couldn’t get a fall-back rate of £80 per week for tool makers there was no chance of getting £60 for a lavatory attendant.”

Then there were other unions in which we were making inroads. UCATT Regional Secretary, Ken Barlow, could always be relied upon to make his office available for a strike headquarters. Ken was an ardent supporter of the Morning Star. The draughtsmen’s union, DATA, was by now TASS – the white-collar section of the then renamed AUEW – although it later left and subsequently joined up with ASTMS to become MSF. (MSF later joined the AEEU to form amicus.) The Midlands Secretary of TASS was Willie Shields – a Spike Milligan double if ever I saw one. Another dour Scotsman, unpredictable from hour to hour. You could never tell what he thought of you, but he was incorruptible and had a heart of gold if he accepted you. I frequently visited his office because I could get some stationery and often a fiver stuck in my top pocket. Then another Scot joined Willie, John Rowan. He was a breath of fresh air, and, like Willie, dedicated to the Party. John unfortunately died during the miners’ strike of 1984/5.

Pic: Bill Warman

The `father’ of them all was Bill Warman of the Sheet Metal Union, for a long time chair of the Midlands Party. Bill epitomised everything that should be expected of a Communist – in using one’s intellectual capacity, ability and compassion for the benefit of working people, without any thought of personal gain.

Then there was ASTMS – Don Groves was the principal officer. Terry Marsland was Secretary for the Gold and Silver Union before they amalgamated with TASS. At NUPE we had Roger Poole, later joined by Gordon Will from Scotland. The T&G’s Regional Secretary Brian Mathers was a decisive force – as later accounts will show. We had quite a number of full-time trade union officials, all big men and women in their own right who could be relied upon when needed and who played a decisive role in the Midlands Region of the TUC.

Then we had powerful rank and file leaders. In Birmingham, Dick Etheridge, Derek Robinson, Jack Adams and Brian Chambers at Longbridge; Arthur Harper at Tractors and Transmissions; Peter Nichols and Joe Harris at the Rover plants; and Bill Goulding in Castle Bromwich. In Coventry, Eddie McCluskey in Chrysler, Stoke; Jock Gibson in Chrysler, Ryton; Phil Higgs in Rolls Royce.

These comrades constituted a powerful force, but it needed constant personal contact and guidance. I think my years in the coalfield taught me the importance of this style of work and many recognised this. I remember Jim Hunt, the present (now retired) regional secretary of the Midlands Region of T&G, introducing me to his personal secretary, not long ago, saying: “This is a life-long Communist who has the art second to none of bringing all political shades and different personalities together, and an outstanding organiser”.

But the Midlands Labour and Trade Union Movement was renowned for its right wing Members of Parliament and Trade Union leaders. Some of the worst examples of corruption in Labour local authorities occurred during the post-war reconstruction of the City. The two unions that then dominated the majority of the organised workforce in the Midlands were the AUEW and the TGWU. In the late sixties, Hughie Scanlon replaced Carron as President of the Engineers. Jack Jones took over from Frank Cousins at the T&G. They were known as the terrible twins because by now, along with a change in the NUM, the circle had turned. No longer could the ruling class automatically rely on the TUC to be able to deliver the goods. It was this combination of forces that challenged the Industrial Relations Act. The growing strength and activity of women ensured that equal pay and a woman’s right to choose on reproductive issues was now higher up the trade union agenda. The removal of the bans on Communists holding office in the TGWU from 1968 helped to build progressive lay member committees right up to the General Executive Council. The battle to strengthen the AUEW, both at EC level and District was also vital.

But while the Party and the left had a strong influence in the factories, the full-time officers in the AUEW controlled the official machine. For a short time we made a small advance with Brian Chambers being elected as District Secretary for West Birmingham and later as Divisional Secretary, but the right-wing introduced the postal ballot and, with massive media coverage of favoured candidates, that worked against the left. When Scanlon retired, right-wingers, Terry Duffy, a Midlander, and Jim Conway took over as President and General Secretary. Another Midlander, Bill Jordan is the current President. (Jordan is, of course, now long retired and the AUEW, having joined with the electricians to become the AEEU, the basis of much of today’s amicus.) Throughout, the right-wing machine has been centred upon the Midlands.

I have made reference to Communist full-time officers in the various unions and rank and file leaders which made the Party a formidable force in the Midlands and held with the highest respect, but they were all ageing and needed replacing. The Young Communist League, with which I will deal more later, had a number of talented youngsters but had been neglected. Moreover many had political differences with the adult section of the Communist Party. One of these springs to mind, the present (now retired) Regional Secretary of the Midlands TGWU, Jim Hunt; he was very critical of the Party’s line on Czechoslovakia, which was characterised as “intervention” but Jim called it an “invasion”. At least both of us agreed it was wrong, so we had something in common.

Jim was employed in a small factory and was in a tiny union of little consequence; the Screw, Nut and Bolt Riveters. There was no future if he remained there. I had a discussion with him and suggested he packed up this job and this union. What was the alternative? Get a job in a big factory. Lucas had a big factory that made batteries and the lead dangers meant a big turnover of labour – a chance therefore of a job. He agreed and he was soon in there and in the TGWU. I introduced him to Brian Mathers, Regional Secretary of the T&G and told him: “This is a potential officer”. Brian then put him on the right road to take advantage of the educational facilities.

The night before the examination that saw him become an officer he had a Party meeting to attend and he was branch secretary. I had been helping him prepare for the interview and when I phoned him about how he felt about it and to check that he was relaxing, his reply was: “I have a Party meeting tonight which I must attend”. My reply was: “No, comrade, if needs be I will take your place at the meeting”. I am sure that was what Jim had in mind when he sent me a letter offering to help in promoting this book. He wrote: “I am most grateful for the help and assistance you gave me and many young trade unionists and nobody better exemplifies in their life than you, the commitments to working class values without thought to personal gain”. Nice words from an ex-Communist who has strong differences with many of us, but my motto is – always keep an open mind and keep talking, some day on some issue you will find common ground for agreement.

There was another who had great potential; that was Graham Stevenson, a Coventry lad then aged 21 and the Secretary of the local YCL, whom Harry Bourne got to come to Birmingham. Graham was a draughtsman active in DATA, but was made redundant before obtaining his qualifications. This was the time of massive redundancies in the car industry, so Harry promised him a job at this trade in Birmingham, but like many promises that are made with the best intent this never came about. The main thing Harry wanted Graham for was to become District Secretary of the YCL.

In the early Seventies jobs became suddenly and increasingly scarce, so Graham drifted into the building industry and became very active in the national building strike of summer 1972. After that, and an episode concerned with occupying the famous Rotunda to highlight the lump labour question, (which nearly saw him share the fate of the Shrewsbury pickets), he was for a period unemployed and became a big asset to me. The club had ideal facilities for making banners and posters for all sorts of demonstrations. Trade unions wanted banners and Graham was first class because, along with his artistic ability, he had the politics to design appropriate slogans. He was also very helpful to me in making the party bulletin more attractive, designing badges and on other design and propaganda work. Also, Graham looked after the club at the weekends, when he was not attending the National EC of the YCL. So he didn’t waste his time. An ardent reader, he would stay up to all hours at night, devouring books.

I strongly believed in applying a firm purpose in helping young people who are doing a job for the movement to gain a perspective for the future. Harry was quite happy that Graham was available to spend time to go into Coventry, Wolverhampton, Stoke, everywhere there were groups of young Communists, developing branches and individuals. I was more concerned that he got a job in one of the factories where this sharp political mind could be an asset. I finally took the bull by the horns and made it clear that I thought this was the priority. Easier said than done. But at that time there was a shortage of semi-skilled workers and there was a Government Training Scheme that, unlike the ones now, nearly guaranteed you a job and certainly gave you a trade.

This was what Graham did and after six months training and a little help he got a job in the Birmingham Small Arms guns factory. We had been planning to get him into Rover, but recruitment of labour was halted for a while and the BSA guns job came up. This was a TGWU factory, just the job for his future career in the union along with Jim Hunt and Danny Bryan. Again, I must say Brian Mathers was helpful, because he knew I wouldn’t encourage anyone to see their future in the union unless they were capable and interested in the union. Graham had all these qualifications and by this time my daughter Lesley was on the NEC of the YCL along with Graham. She was soon herself to become employed by the T&G as a research worker. Both of them looked after the club on the disco and folk club nights and it was obvious something was happening between them. Like Jim Hunt, Graham followed Brian’s advice and took advantage of the educational facilities, and after five years at BSA was shaping up to become an officer in the TGWU.

Unlike Jim Hunt and Danny Bryan who were appointed on their first application, Graham was only successful on his fourth attempt. I couldn’t understand why he wasn’t selected. On at least two occasions he had been unaccountably passed over for complete outsiders, despite Brian Mathers’ confidence that he would succeed. I asked Brian about it and he said: “He is too clever; he won’t let them finish their question before he has started giving the correct answer.” Of course they resented a young person with more knowledge than themselves. This we soon rectified. Graham was told to hold back, to pretend he was searching for the answer. There was also I think some reserve about appointing yet another Communist, as so much talent had swept in to the TGWU from the Party after the lifting of the bans. Although only two other officers in the Midlands out of 50, Don Higgs and Bill Goulding, were by this stage Communist Party members. Graham made it three when in 1980 he was finally appointed as Derby District Organiser when Alex Kitson became Deputy General Secretary with Moss Evans as General Secretary. Lesley and Graham had not long been married and now went to live in Derby, leaving me in Birmingham. Sadly, Freda had died by this time.

Graham became National Secretary of the Union’s Passenger Services (public transport) group in 1988 (currently National Organiser for Transport); Danny Bryan is Public Services National Officer (retired in 2003 as National Secretary Road Transport Commercial); Jim Hunt is Midland Regional Secretary (at the risk of repetition [!], now retired), all three from the same stable of the Midlands YCL. I know for sure that both Graham and Danny will be proud to associate themselves with Jim Hunt’s remarks about my role in helping young trades unionists.

There were two others from the YCL around that time – Pete Carter and Tony McNally. I will make only brief references to both of them at this stage because they feature later in the book. Pete Carter had been National Organiser for the YCL and, when he came back to Birmingham around 1969, I discussed his future with him. The building union was growing immensely. The struggle against the “lump” was rife in Birmingham. I saw great potentialities in Pete as a mass leader, but the mistake I made was not immediately to appreciate that he could never work in a disciplined way in the Labour Movement. For example, he was elected as one of the UCATT delegates to the TUC in the seventies, but refused to stand the following year. He had a cynical attitude to this body. He was then elected as a full-time officer of UCATT in the Midlands, but left that position to take on the job of Industrial Organiser of the CPGB. Some comrades saw this as a great sacrifice. But it wasn’t. Pete never wanted to be tied down to the routine work that full-time union organisers have to undertake. The post as Industrial Organiser was just what the Euro-Communists dreamed of, as the trade union comrades were the biggest stumbling block to revisionism. Pete was now, along with Martin Jacques, Nina Temple and Tony McNally, who succeeded me as Midland District Secretary, all part of a prominent group that had come from the YCL which subsequently spearheaded the revisionist takeover of the CPGB, as they had done in the YCL, a move which led to its subsequent collapse in the early eighties and dissolution in 1992.

They used the journal “Marxism Today”, edited Martin Jacques, to reject the Party’s programme, The British Road to Socialism, and in the eighties tried to take over the Morning Star; but more of this later.

I haven’t made any reference to Tony McNally’s industrial connections because he didn’t have many and he should never have been a District Secretary of the CPGB in an area like the Midlands, the industrial heartland of the UK. Peter Carter should never have been selected as the Industrial Organiser, because neither of them were committed to the main strategy in the Party’s programme, “The British Road to Socialism,” especially the need to understand that the leading force in the broad democratic alliance had to be the working class as expressed through the labour movement. The British Labour Movement is one of the best organised and potentially most powerful in the capitalist world. Unfortunately, this power has not been fully used because the movement is dominated by an outlook that accepts capitalism, and prevents this power being used in many of the struggles I refer to.

In a later chapter, I will show how people like Carter, McNally, Jacques and Temple, the so-called “New Realists”, projected the concept that the “Forward March of Labour had been halted”. This was their view even before 1979 and the hostile Thatcher Government – even at a time of mass struggles, when Communists were playing a leading role. The Party was becoming a force to be reckoned with, especially for its industrial work and circulation of the Morning Star was increasing for the first time since 1956.

No wonder Marxism Today could attract Tories wet and dry (Heath and Currie), Tories with “no feeling” (Heseltine), Liberal, Social Democrat, Green, Labour, even a Communist putting a view opposed by the Party (Hobsbawm on tactical voting), but how did the reader learn what the Communists thought about events. There was a virtual embargo on Communists writing in the journal, unless they were “New Realists”, and the Party had to pick up the bill for horrendous deficits. For over a decade resources were pumped into Marxism Today to enable it to play a negative role.

“Being Frank”:

The Memoirs of Frank Watters

Part Two

The following chapters are in this section:

Chapter 11 He hasn’t changed a bit! Mass struggle in the 1970s

Chapter 12 Twisted and unprincipled…

Chapter 13 Recovery or Reversal? The sacking of Derek Robinson

Chapter 14 A bark worse than his bite. Farewell Birmingham

Chapter 15 A healthy political atmosphere – back in Yorkshire

Chapter 16 The Lyons Bakery strike of 1982

Chapter 17 Nurses’ Strike of 1982

Chapter 18 The Miners’ Strike of 1984-5

Chapter 19 The Euros’ Role from 1984

Chapter 20 “Frank, Finish” – the CPGB disciplines me

Chapter 21 Seafarers’ Strike 1988-9

Chapter 22 The Ambulance Workers’ Strike 1989-90

Chapter 23 NUM Presidential and Vice-Presidential Elections

Chapter 24 Jim Parker “pieces of silver… blood money from a crook and a thief”

“He hasn’t changed a bit, never leaves empty handed.” Mobilising for mass struggle and the Party with scarce resources in the Seventies

I was now well settled down, enjoying my family life, with a garden helping me to relax, a regular Friday off to help with shopping and a meal prepared for Freda and Lesley. My Catholic upbringing meant this meal was fish. I had not only developed a good relationship with most progressive full-time trade union leaders in Birmingham, but more importantly, a good relationship with their staff with whom I enjoyed a cup of coffee. But they knew that Frank didn’t call only for his coffee, it was to get some typing done, correcting my English and spelling for which I confess I never achieved ‘A’ or even ‘O’ levels. Once they could grapple with my atrocious handwriting, which I do in

shorthand because of my amputated finger, I had no problem getting bulletins or letters typed. I can hear some of my friends in the Barnsley NUM office saying: “He hasn’t changed a bit, never leaves empty handed.”

The club was going well and in spite of Comrades Lenin, Marx and Engels beaming on anyone coming to the bar, I was proud that Catholic families who had a sister or daughter in Holy Orders, would come to the club with other Nuns visiting their families for a good night of folk music and songs.

We organised a Christmas Dinner for all our retired members, which was never heard of in any District Communist Party. About 70 or 80 people would sit down to full Christmas dinner. It didn’t cost the Party one penny. I covered all expenses by tapping full-time trade unionists and getting them to bring some of the liquid perks. I also tapped the brewers’ representatives, and the Campbell Folk Group, including Betty and Dave

Campbell, Dave Phillips and Nigel Denver, all outstanding artistes, would entertain. George Jelf organised the camp at Talybont in North Wales set up in l948 by a group of Communists in Birmingham and still a very popular holiday centre. George would provide catering and was ideal with his decades of experience. One year I slipped up. The turkey was always 18 to 20 lbs in weight. We hadn’t an oven big enough, so I got a Bangladeshi friend, who had a restaurant across from the club, to agree to cook the bird. The evening before the Christmas party I called in to check up and I was assured everything was alright. When I called in the morning the restaurant was locked

up. I went and got the manager out of bed to open up to collect the turkey. When we got there the bird was the same as I had delivered it, with a note saying: “Sorry we couldn’t cook the turkey as we hadn’t any foil.” I went berserk. He claimed he was in London and came home very late. Now what were we to do? I said: “What have you in your fridge? We found steak, sausages, chops, mushrooms, ham, – ideal for a good mixed grill. “But I need this for the restaurant tonight,” he protested. I was in no mood to make any compromise. I said: “Cook everything you have and you can have the turkey menu tonight.”

I got George Jelf and Joan Bennett cracking with our stove so between them a smashing dish was prepared. There was no problem about any delay as the bar was open and comrades who hadn’t seen each other for some time were enjoying a good crack. Before we dished out the mixed grill, in my welcoming remarks I said: “We have decided on a different menu this year because we know by next week you will be sick

of looking at turkeys and chickens.”

“A good idea”, someone remarked. Little did they know they might have had to do a Charlie Chaplin, ‘all in the mind’! Then I had another imaginative venture – a Christmas dinner catering for 120 in the evening. I had no problem; a baker who provided home-made scones and rolls for the Saltley contingent, and regularly for the club, did the necessary. This was paid for by those attending, but we had to have wine on the table. About an hour before the guests arrived, I discovered the wine was Portuguese. At that

time, like South African wine it was embargoed by progressives. We scraped off the labels and I can remember Gerry Cohen, who was the fraternal guest from the Communist Party, saying: “What wine was that? It was wonderful.” I lied: “I don’t know, there were no labels on the bottles.” The next year it was different. A political change had taken place in Portugal, so there was no need to scrape off the labels!

This is what I meant when I said the social club was a tremendous asset to the Party, but also to the much wider movement, especially those sections in struggle for their democratic rights and a decent standard of living. No section of the movement was ever denied the full facilities of the club as a centre.

Pic:

Frank at the rostrum, representing the Communist Party EC, as the British fraternal guest at the XIIth congress of the Bulgarian Communist Party

Here I want to deal with some of the wider struggles I was involved in; my life-long involvement has not been confined to any one union, but to many unions and community bodies. I think I can truly say that this breadth of experience has arguably made my name well known throughout the length and breadth of the British labour movement.

The first dispute I can remember being involved in Birmingham was connected with a NUPE shop steward called Martin Cumella. He was employed by the Birmingham Corporation as a Social Worker with children who were under the care of the Council. One boy in his care frequently went missing, but could always be found in a certain home where he was made welcome and happy, but where, because of the circumstances, his stay was limited. The job of social workers was to make sure that, during holidays like Easter, children under their care were provided for. Naturally, Martin saw no objection to this boy spending the weekend with the woman who always provided love and the home comforts he was denied in council hostels.

On Good Friday night the Birmingham Post carried a headline, “Boy sent by Social Worker to a prostitute for Easter”. Martin was sacked. He was advised to contact me and seek advice. Luckily enough, Freda was now a social services worker and was acquainted with such problems. Martin visited our house and, once Freda was clear that he had submitted a full report to his Senior Officer and it was a regular occurrence that this boy would spend the weekend at this house; she was convinced it was victimisation. Martin’s Senior Officer was always reluctant to recognise NUPE, he preferred NALGO. What he didn’t realise was the reaction of all the other social workers. They insisted that once they made a report and it had been approved by a senior officer, they could not be held responsible for making a wrong decision.

The problem was how to could get NALGO involved – because NUPE had only a handful of members in his field of work. There were two ways to win solidarity. Freda would raise it when the holidays were over, ‘phone all the area offices and get protests pouring into the council. If Martin was not reinstated they would call a demonstration to take

place at dinnertime and that would mean a half-day’s action. The next problem was to get NALGO officially to support his reinstatement. I know some will say: “That shouldn’t have been any problem.”

But it was a problem because Martin was not a member of NALGO and they didn’t like NUPE recruiting in this field. Roger Poole, who later made his name during the ambulance strike, posing for TV and Press cameras in so many different suits, was a NUPE official. (When I asked him for some of his cast-offs he thought they might not fit me!) Roger was magnificent. We all worked so well together. Then I knew a member

of the NALGO EC, David Owen, and a meeting between him and Roger was arranged. We had the issue raised on the EC of NALGO and while they couldn’t make it an official strike they were able to bring pressure to bear on the council to reinstate Martin as a Social Worker. Martin joined the Communist Party and Roger was already a member, so for the first time we had broken the ice, at least with the rank and file members of NALGO and NUPE. It was the first time these two public sector unions had come together to seal a tremendous victory, not only for Martin’s reinstatement but a victory against the prejudice that someone who earns a living in a hard way can’t give love and affection like other women. Hopefully, unity will be all the easier, now that NALGO and NUPE along with COHSE have agreed to amalgamate to form a new public service union, UNISON.

Roger pursued the policy of contracting into and developing good relations with other unions, playing an important role in the newly formed Midlands TUC. NUPE could be relied upon from then on to support others in struggle. Roger should have become the Midlands Regional Secretary of NUPE, but for some mysterious reason they appointed Barry Shuttleworth from South Wales. Not a bad lad; in fact he and Jack Dicken, a former shop steward from Longbridge, were the first Union representatives to hand over £1,000 for the Derek Robinson battle.

Roger was not happy at being passed over so he asked for a transfer and, instead of spending all his life as Midlands Regional Secretary; he ended up as Assistant General Secretary of NUPE. It’s an ill wind that doesn’t do some good. We are good friends and in fact, when he visited Yorkshire during the health workers’ strike, he was walking so tall I was surprised he did not need to lower his head to get into the train! Then, when he visited Sheffield during the ambulance strike, the first question he asked the lads from Barnsley was: “Do you know Frank Watters?” The answer was “No”. So Roger told them! “Well, get in touch and he will do a job for you”. I will deal with that later, but I think that’s what my friend Rodney Bickerstaffe meant when he said: “Frank can always be relied upon when any section of the movement needs his help.”

My next big involvement was the first national strike in the Fire Brigades’ Union, which began on 14th November 1977 and ended, after nine weeks in January 1978 when there was a compromise settlement. The issue was low pay. The national average wage for all male workers in 1977 was £78.60 for a basic 42-hour week. The weekly wage of a worker ranged from £52.53 to £65.70 for a qualified fire fighter with four years’ training.

There were big divisions within the leadership as to the justification of using the strike weapon. Neil Kinnock said in the Commons that they were “provoked to do so arising from a long-standing cause.” That’s when Neil was just an ordinary Member of Parliament. Weren’t the health workers, the steel workers, the ambulance workers, the miners, all provoked? It would have been nice to hear such words during the 1984/85 miners strike, instead of Kinnock’s complete condemnation of the timing, the issue, but above all the NUM leadership.

I have just been reading the history of that first national fire fighters’ strike. I had to look back repeatedly to see if the author was referring to the FBU or the NUM. A classical example of betrayal by the TUC, Labour leaders and some trade union officials elected on a left ticket. Loyalty to an Incomes Policy imposed by the International Monetary Fund, when they were bailing out the Labour Government from a balance of payments crisis, was more important than loyalty to the fire fighters.

I was sick reading the hypocritical appeals from the then General Secretary of the FBU, Labour’s Home Secretary and the Archbishop of Westminster all saying that this was an intolerable threat to the whole community: “Think of the suffering of the old, young and infirm caught in a fire.” The same words with which we are so familiar in any strike.

After nine weeks of really cold weather, with 9,000 troops and 850 “green goddess” appliances, built in the 1950s as part of the civil defence organisation, with Brigade Officers supervising them, the TUC rejected a simple resolution, which called for “an orderly return to free collective bargaining”, and a public campaign in support of the fire fighters’ claim. In such circumstances and with a hostile Press, public support was waning. A compromise formula was finally agreed that linked fire fighters’ pay to that of skilled manual workers. The maintenance of this index-linked pay agreement, which the Tories would like to end, has been a major task of the FBU ever since.

How did I come to get so much involved? I was accidentally visiting the UCATT offices when Ken Barlow, Regional Secretary, said: “We have got the firemen in the meeting room and by the looks of it they could do with some good advice.” I didn’t know any of them, but Ray Bryant, who was in charge, phoned Ken Cameron in London, who remembered me from the days of Saltley when he had agreed to put up one or two of the miners. Before the week was out he had a floor full of miners. Ken’s reply was: “Take his advice on all matters even though I have advised you previously.”

Within hours we reduced the numbers on the picket lines and redeployed them to meet shop stewards at lunchtime at the factory gates. This is where I had an advantage. Not only did I build contacts with full-time officials, but also with key rank and file convenors in large factories. Soon the cash was rolling in. The firemen were pig-sick of being let down by Labour and trade union leaders; now they had financial and moral support from other workers once they were able to address meetings explaining their working conditions, their pay and the mental and physical hazards of their job. This gave them a new lease of life.

Not only did the Party help out in the factories and building sites, but Party branches organised, in conjunction with firemen living in their areas, to collect at the weekends at the main shopping centres.

Ken Cameron and I met regularly for a pint near where we lived to talk over what was obviously a split leadership since some regions were looking for a way out. The Government, now with the backing of the TUC, tried to force them to settle via the National Joint Council , which could only recommend, with Government having the final say and a right of veto. Neil Kinnock informed the Commons that over the previous eighteen years, “firemen have achieved a number of pay settlements and recommendations only to have them taken away at the eleventh hour because of incomes policies practised by successive governments.” The Midlands, alongside Scotland, Merseyside and London, were crucial. Therefore any advice on solidarity action was vital.

That is maybe what Ken Cameron meant when he said, when supporting this publication: “You are in good hands with Frank.” Like the miners, they had gone through Christmas and New Year with no shortages. There were some tremendous parties and, instead of Cameron’s floor being occupied by miners, that New Year’s Eve it was firemen who couldn’t climb into bed let alone ascend a fire-ladder.

The strike finished on January 16th. Before that, divisions were becoming more obvious. The militant mood and backing that Ken and others had won previously with “no compromise” couldn’t be sustained. A settlement was inevitable. I had arranged to meet Ken at 9.30 following a vital EC that Friday. Ray Bryant met Ken at the railway station and told him he had a meeting to do at Digbeth. I understand he was not pleased, but, when told that I had arranged it, he agreed.

The meeting was a long shot. The ETU were holding their AGM and when the word got around that Cameron might be addressing them it became not a normal AGM, but a packed out meeting. Cameron had to wait at the back of the hall. One of the lads asked that Ken Cameron, a member of the EC of the FBU be allowed ten minutes to speak and that a collection be taken. Remember, by now no member of the Communist Party, or for that matter effectively any left, was allowed to hold office in the ETU, so the Chairman ruled it out, saying that they hadn’t time.

Cameron and Ray looked to see what they could afford for a drink at the nearby pub. Cameron was enjoying a drop of the “stuff” when he was called upon to speak. What the lads had done was to accept the report without argument. The AGM was over in no time, so the Chairman had lost his excuse that there was no time available. By the time he came back Ken was well over the blood alcohol limit. A police car followed him all the way to Kings Heath, at least four miles, provoking him to overtake by slowing down and then accelerating. Ken finally overtook him, but it was at traffic signals! Ken was in real trouble, the panda car overtook him and waved him down. The police officer said: “Do you realise the speed you were travelling at and that you were overtaking at traffic lights?” Ken then went on to the sort of offensive that Highlanders are very good at, “Yes I know what speed I was doing and where I overtook you. You realise who I am. Ken Cameron, EC member of the FBU. I have been in London fighting for you. I am not only trying to get the best possible deal for my members, but the outcome of this dispute is crucial for people like you who agree to support us, but settle for 10% and an enquiry.” The officer said: “I agree with you and support you, but watch your speed and no more drink”. The panda turned back into the town. Ken proceeded to the pub in which we had arranged to meet. Ray Bryant had parked his car so that the police

didn’t connect him with Cameron. He phoned the pub and said. “Right, I am walking the rest of the way.”

There was a difficult decision to be made. A few weeks before Cameron had been a hero. How would the members accept a compromise? Anyone who has any relationship with Cameron will agree there are not many more honest and sincere and I told him what I have always believed; you get what is possible and if you are honest with your members they will back you.

I enjoyed my relationship with the FBU and Frank Watters enjoys as much respect within the Union as his cousin, Pat Watters, the only Chief Fire Officer to be a member of the FBU. During the 1984/85 miners’ strike there were three Shottsonians as guests in the Gallery at the FBU conference, Mick McGahey, Pat Watters and me, all enjoying the hospitality of the Union, as I have done every year since 1978. The Union emerged united, Ken was elected General Secretary and I don’t know of many unions where the membership is so proud of their union and leadership.

Then there was the Steel Strike of 1981. This was a very difficult strike. By this time part of the steel industry was privatised. The union, under Bill Sirs as General Secretary, called out only the members in the publicly owned steel sector. I got a phone call from you know who in Barnsley. “Frank, I have got some steel workers who are on strike, Birmingham is vital to their success, can you do for the steel workers what you did for the miners in 1972?” I replied: “You must be joking; I don’t know any steel workers in Birmingham”. He then said: “We have a name and phone number of a young steel union official who has been put out to grass to work in Birmingham. Can you contact him and do your best?” My answer, as always, was: “Yes”.

The name of the union official was Mick Leahey (later to become ISTC/ Community General Secretary), one of a team in Rotherham who had proved too much for Bill Sirs. Monday morning, I set out to find his office; miles outside the city. I introduced myself, Secretary of the Communist Party etc. I informed him of my phone call of which he was already aware. Luckily, his secretary knew me as she had been Bill Warman’s secretary when he was an organiser for the Sheet Metal Workers’ Union. So I was welcomed with open arms. A cup of coffee was welcome, because I had spent a considerable time finding them. Mick said: “What do we do?” I told him: “After I have this cup of coffee pack up all your correspondence and say farewell to your secretary, because you don’t win strikes at the end of a telephone. Follow me and then when we get to the Star Club we will have a serious discussion.”

Once there, he put me in the picture. Alongside Walsall, Cannock and North Staffordshire, where steel was produced, Birmingham had massive steel warehouses supplying all parts of the Midlands and the South of England with special steels. This was why Birmingham was crucial and why pickets from Yorkshire had been requested.

Our first visit was to UCATT to seek accommodation for what we called our ‘Special Squad’. They had to be available at all hours around the clock so private accommodation was not suitable. We got the usual reception: “Anything we can do to help, just ask.” That meant the lads from Sheffield and Rotherham were fixed up.

Then it was over to TASS, which had a large staff who were able to assist with all the clerical work we would need. Then we had to consider the inner man. Warm soup, tea and coffee would be needed to sustain pickets. ASTMS had a mobile canteen van that was pressed into service. Soon the Regional Secretary and other officials of the union, and their partners, were helping out and we were in business.

One of the major problems we faced was that workers in the privatised sector of the industry in Cannock and some of the large Sheffield plants were, in line with union policy, working normally. This was thanks to the disastrous policy of the right-wing leadership of the union, which restricted action to the nationalised plants.

I remember the Yorkshire Area of the NUM decided to help organise a mass picket of Hadfield’s steelworks in Sheffield. We traveled overnight from Birmingham for a 6 am picket and it was a heartening sight as we arrived at the plant to see thousands of miners marching to swell the picket line.

I was convinced this would be another Saltley Gate. But the ruling class had learned their lessons from Saltley and had been nursing a thirst for revenge ever since. The police were much better organised and managed to split us up. Those who managed to get to the main entrance were quickly hemmed in between a high wall and a strong police cordon. Unable to reach the entrance, pickets had to ask police permission to get out to use the toilet.

As daylight came all hell broke loose. Heavy lorries full of steel were thundering in and out, apparently without regard for the life or limb of the pickets. We returned to Birmingham in a despondent mood. The city was dependent on steel and the future employment of thousands of engineers and other workers was at stake, but they had failed to respond in the way the Birmingham engineers had done almost a decade before at Saltley.

The major problem was the tension that the strike exposed between the TGWU and the striking steelworkers, especially the pickets sent from Yorkshire where many big privatised steelworks were working normally. Birmingham and Wolverhampton constituted a vast warehouse full of special steels. Lorries were coming and going, full of steel produced and loaded by workers in the Northern private steelworks under Bill

Sirs’ instructions and the pickets were frustrated, because there was nothing they could do to stop them delivering to the big car plants like Longbridge.

It appeared to the T&G workers who wanted to help that they were being called on to do the work that the ISTC leadership should have been doing. Even so, many T&G workers responded heroically. At the Round House Steel Works, a big private plant at Brierley Hill near Dudley, the T&G 5/35 Branch provided six pickets a day for six weeks to help the striking steelworkers to try and persuade drivers not to cross the line. But they faced an obvious difficulty in trying to persuade their colleagues effectively to embargo steel that had been produced on the instructions of the ISTC itself.

A few years later we were to face a similar problem in the 1984/85 miners’ strike when the train drivers halted the flow of coal from the Nottinghamshire pits. But when the Nottingham miners – who were then still members of the NUM – decided to go their own way and to defy the national strike call, there was little the NUR could do to sustain this support.

These were classic examples of the way the ruling class seize on and exploit divisions and schisms in the working class movement, assisted by their propaganda machine so willingly provided by the national press. Potential divisions form an ever-present undercurrent in the movement, and where they do not exist the ruling class will create them; between one workmate and another, one factory and another, between different unions, different races, between men and women, nationalist and internationalist.

It is the oldest trick in the book, but unfortunately however many of us have the advantage of political theory and the benefit of hindsight and bitter personal experience, it seems every new generation is doomed to re-learn the lesson for itself in damaging and costly struggle.

If any of those who worked on through 1984/1985, or any of the other disputes which preceded it, still have any doubts about the way they were cynically manipulated by the employers they have only to look at the way they were treated once the bosses had achieved their aims.

The Brierley Hill plant is now closed, like Ravenscraig in Scotland and many of the massive plants in Sheffield and Rotherham. Even Scunthorpe in Humberside, which kept going with the use of scab fuel, has shed jobs and those displaced workers are at last united, sharing the same dole queues as the thousands of redundant mineworkers who have been sacked since 1985.

Accommodation of pickets was more difficult during the steel dispute than it was in the miners’ strike. The ‘Special Squad’ was fixed up with UCATT, but we had about another 20 men from a steel works that had already been closed down.

I found them bed and breakfast in the Stratford Road in Sparkhill, Birmingham. The accommodation was close to the Labour Club and the men seemed happy enough with the catering arrangements, getting breakfast in the morning and a few pints at night. But these lads were from a small village and were unaccustomed to the social customs and exotic lifestyle of a big cosmopolitan conurbation.

In this area of the city there was a heavy demand on Saturday nights for bed and breakfast accommodation for the oldest of professions, who of course always attracted a vigilant police presence! These women workers operate in a very competitive labour market, often having to argue for the ‘going rate’ sometimes being expected to do more than they thought was the normal task. From these terms and conditions of employment, I suspect the reader may be able to deduce the profession to which I allude.

On the Sunday morning I visited the Labour Club and encountered a group of lads with faces as long as fiddles.

“What’s the matter with you lot?” I enquired.

“Those bloody digs you put us in.”

“What’s the matter? Are the beds clean?”

“Yes.”

“And do you get a reasonable breakfast?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that’s what you are paying for, bed and breakfast. So

what’s wrong?”

“We couldn’t get to sleep until the early hours of the morning.”

“Why not?”

“There were women arguing with men who brought them in late at

night.”

“What were they arguing about?”

“Money. You know what we mean.”

“Yes. I know what goes on in this area on a Saturday night. And if the women were arguing about their full entitlement with a bit extra for Saturday night and an unsocial hours allowance for having to get out early in the morning, before the landlord appears, they were bloody right to get what they could. Anyway, what do you lot want me to do, arbitrate so that you can get your full night’s sleep? Get a few pints extra down you, pull the blankets over your heads and let the girls get on with their business. By the way, I hope none of you lot were involved, because strike benefit does not run to away from home allowances!”

Such jollities aside, whilst the women may have won their dispute, the steel strike was lost and, like many others before and since, union leader Bill Sirs received the recognition of the Establishment with the preferment of a knighthood. But this was to be only the beginning of a major assault on organised labour.

Chapter 12 “Twisted and unprincipled forces”: the Euro-Communists begin to take over

My relationship with the Midland District Communist Party, towards the end of the Seventies, to say the least, was now very strained. I had gone through a very difficult patch ever since Harry Bourne was seconded for a year to the Party’s East Midland District, to resolve a difference between two full-time workers in that area. There were virtually no other full-time political workers – apart from some temporary incumbents – for at least five years before Jon Bloomfield was sent by the Centre to take the Birmingham City Secretaryship. His joining forces with Tony McNally, Coventry Secretary, along with Pete Carter and others all with a background in the YCL, which had been preoccupied since 1968 with internal feuding and attacking the leadership of the Party, made my political position untenable.

Pic:

Frank, as District Secretary, out with the Party in Chamberlain Square, Birmingham.

This group was soon to show its hand, at the Midland District Congress in 1979 when they removed two allies from the leadership by underhand and untruthful means. Namely, Graham Stevenson, who did a magnificent job as Chairman of Congress Arrangements (Resolutions) Committee, and George Jelf, Chairman of Birmingham City Committee of the Party and one of our most loyal members. George had almost been successful in a long campaign to become a councillor and was also our parliamentary candidate for Small Heath, Dennis Howell’s constituency. Now I was a real political prisoner. The Political Committee was warned that Bloomfield was a wrong choice for Birmingham, along with McNally, but took little notice. How did he and his allies achieve such mayhem? Little things led to major problems.

The untimely death of Harry Bourne, Midland District Secretary of the Communist Party for 20 years from 1953 to 1973, when I took over from him, was a great tragedy for the Party. Harry was only 61 years old when he died. His contribution to the Movement was wide and varied, while his apprenticeship to political struggle was gained in that traumatic experience of his generation – the Spanish Civil War. A member of the British Battalion of the International Brigade, he received a serious

leg injury during the famous battle of the Ebro in 1938.

During the London blitz in the Second World War, he and many other leading Communists were associated with the takeover of underground stations as bombproof shelters. Twice parliamentary candidate in Coventry, Harry will always be remembered for his terrific drive, enthusiasm, optimism and his boundless confidence in the basic soundness of working class reaction to problems and his utterly selfless dedication to the Communist Party. I will always cherish the way he

helped me to grapple with what I sometimes thought was an impossible task. During the 1984/85 miners’ strike his widow Mary, a Yorkshire lass, visited the picket lines and shared a meal with the miners’ families at their welfare centre. She was nearly in tears, at the sight of miners on a cold wet winter day, digging and riddling to get a bag of coal to warm their house so that the kids could have hot

water for a bath. Both Freda and I shared many a pleasant hour in the Bourne’s garden. In many ways, Harry and Mary were the prototype of the kind of men and women who will develop in a genuine socialist society, possessing immense talent, kindness and ability and using this for the benefit of all.

In Yorkshire, Mary made friends with another Communist couple of substance – Enid and Harry Hyde. All I can say about them is the same as Harry and Mary, wonderful people giving everything to working class values without thought to personal gain. The comradeship of these and other wonderful friends was sharply contrasted with the venom that was poured on me by the manoeuvring faction that sought control.

1979 was a dreadful year – memorable, but dreadful. Alongside the loss of Harry, my wife Freda died in October 1977. Both losses naturally affected me greatly; particularly given the state of the Party. This was the period before a crucial congress of the Communist Party, where there were two main resolutions that had dominated debate in the Party for months before. One was the re-draft of the “British Road to Socialism”. The last version had been in 1968 and the Party leadership was conscious that much had changed since then. The other issue was the relationship between the Communist Party and the Morning Star.

By this time the publication in English of the writings of Antonio Gramsci, the Italian Communist theoretician, stimulated what was known then as “Euro-Communism”. Now the Communist and even Socialist name has been dropped from their vocabulary. “New Realism” is a more popular slogan, just like the uncontroversial name “Democratic Left”. Ardent supporters of a twisted version of Gramsci’s thoughts tried to apply them to the British Trade Union and Labour Movement. These revisionists projected a rather slavish translation of the experience of the Italian and Spanish Communist Parties and others. The question that dominated our differences with the “Euros” was the notion of the centrality of the working class in the anti-capitalist struggle.

Gramsci, who spent most of his political life in prison under Fascism, provided mixed messages in his writings, which were necessarily coded by virtue of their having been written whilst incarcerated; in any case, he was silent on the special character of Britain – its unique Labour Movement.

In the run-up to Congress, the Euro-Communists saw the re-drafting as an opportunity for a fundamental revision of the British Road. Not only were they dismissive of the value of the discipline of democratic centralism, but more important, they queried the past practice of the Party’s concentration on the big battalions of labour and on wage militancy. They saw the supposedly newer forces, like the peace movement, women’s movements, ecological and environmental groups, as superior to that of the traditional Labour Movement.

This “new” political philosophy challenged the concept of all previous drafts of the “British Road to Socialism,” which identified that the main “Force for change in Britain” in any alliance with broader social forces must be the organised working class of which the Communist Party was a vital part. They wanted to remove references to the Party in our programme from its rightful position alongside the Labour and Trade Union Movement to another section that dealt with social

forces.

I was still District Secretary and on the Executive Committee of the Party, when Martin Jacques and George Matthews presented the first draft to the EC. The Party had been relegated from the section entitled “Forces for Change” in line with the revisionist analysis. Only by the narrowest of votes was this rejected. But with Martin Jacques and George Matthews principally responsible for the work on this 1977 draft of the British Road, it resulted in the Party facing both ways on this key difference. The revisionist group went on to the offensive using Marxism Today to weaken opposition to them. But they also wanted control of the Morning Star. That would have meant the end of the unique role that the Paper and the Party had played – a role much appreciated by so many in the Labour Movement. Not only a loss of organising capacity, but the analysis and strategic vision given daily to the Labour Movement would be at an end. Once the Party and the Paper ceased this role its days would be numbered and the Labour and Trade Union Movement would be much weakened. The CIA and all the anti-communist propaganda activity in the world couldn’t have done the job better. A sequence of events shows the devious way the resolution from the Midlands, which began this process, appeared on the agenda and was moved by Jon Bloomfield, Birmingham City Secretary.

I was aware of the massive amendments to the British Road – especially those on the Party’s role, which were coming from Marxism Today stables in the polytechnics, student branches, university staffs’ branches and a few District Committees of the Communist Party. Jon Bloomfield was very much tied up with this group, but he didn’t show his hand on this issue. The Morning Star resolution that came from the Midlands appeared by devious means. I will let readers draw their own conclusions on my meaning.

My wife Freda was now in her last few days. On her insistence, I kept working up until the day she died. I had already discussed with Tony McNally and Jon Bloomfield all necessary national Congress arrangements, including who should be on the commission at Congress as District Delegate for the re-draft of the “British Road to Socialism.” Jim Hunt was by this time back in Birmingham, having previously been appointed a T&G officer in Derby, and was now Communist Party District Chairman. I thought that the experience of the commission would help Jim to understand the unique role of the British Communist Party in the Labour and Trade Union Movement, that it would counteract the twisted concepts of the “Euros”. I made it clear that the constitution of the Party enabled all full-time workers to attend and participate in Congress proceedings, but without voting

rights. Traditionally, a district delegate’s position enabled leading comrades in the Trade Union movement, and others whose commitments often made it difficult to attend branch meetings and so might not be considered as a suitable branch delegate, to get to Congress.

I phoned on the night the Secretariat was due to meet and informed them that Freda had died that evening. The fact that Congress was still seven weeks away meant that the election of the delegate to represent the District could have been deferred to a later date. When I came back after a few days, I was presented with the minutes of the Secretariat recording that Jon Bloomfield had been elected as the District Delegate and Jim Hunt was not on the British Road to Socialism Commission. My first reaction was one of fury. I raised it with Jon and made it perfectly clear that I was District Secretary and if anyone from the full-time staff was to represent the Midlands it would be me, not him, a City Secretary.

Later I discovered the reason he took advantage of my absence by ensuring the rejection of the established practice of appointing the District Delegate, which always operated when I was in Yorkshire and in the Midlands. On the morning of the District Committee that October, only just in time for District resolutions to be put to National Congress, Jim Hunt was in the Chair, and Jon Bloomfield handed him a letter containing a resolution on the Morning Star. I asked Jim if I could see this letter, as all correspondence should go to the Secretary and not the Chairperson, whose only responsibility is the conduct of the meeting. When I read it, I asked Jon to follow me into my office. I was in no mood physically or mentally to take on anyone that day, but I made my position clear to Bloomfield that in normal circumstances I would have had a showdown with him over the District Delegate. Moreover it was out of order for a full-time colleague not even to inform the Secretariat of his intention regarding a District resolution. Jon could have got his branch to submit this resolution, that would have been acceptable. But no, his nomination as District Delegate was fixed so that the Midlands, a very large District, was seen to be fully behind a resolution which I have always believed was the beginning of the end of a relationship between the Morning Star and the Communist Party of Great Britain. Bloomfield was able to nudge the resolution through the District Committee by the narrowest of margins – a single vote.

When we discussed this resolution on the EC, I warned comrades that this was in truth not really a Midlands resolution, and that it had been manoeuvred through by a group of people who weren’t interested in promoting the paper, but wanted to sever the relationship between the Party and the Paper. I was heavily criticised by the Marxism Today group on the EC. It was however agreed that the EC would put forward its own resolution and take on these critics. I don’t know if the leadership was so much out of touch or so naive as to think they could carry the day against a very carefully worded resolution.

The EC resolution was to be moved by Gerry Cohen, London District Secretary. Bloomfield was too clever to make it a vote between the Midlands and others, seeming to challenge an emergency resolution from the EC. So they amended the EC’s emergency resolution on the Morning Star, by retaining the main points of their own motion, claiming the problem facing the paper regarding finance and circulation was its content, style, presentation and management. In other words change the content and have less industrial reporting. A style and presentation more geared to the women’s movement, ecological and environmental groups was what was needed, they argued. The policy of the “Democratic Left” today in fact – a paper closer to Liberal and Green Parties, with a management like Marxism Today. Even Reuben Falber, former Assistant General Secretary of the Communist Party, in a letter to the Party’s weekly, was motivated to express concern over the inability of the Editor of Marxism Today to operate the decisions of the last three congresses in respect of that journal. From 1982 until 1991 the Party’s bank balance had to pay off thousands of pounds of Marxism Today’s commercial debts until it had to close the journal down.

In an atmosphere of confusion the EC’s emergency resolution on the ‘Star’ was heavily defeated. The amendment was carried with 193 in favour to 137 against. The “Euros”, not content with this victory, went on to the next stage that “the Party was responsible for winning readers, the paper was responsible for holding readers”; an un-Marxist and hypocritical analysis. Bloomfield in his amended resolution makes reference to “stalwart efforts of Party members selling the paper”.

This was the person who as Birmingham Secretary saw his City Committee decide not to sell the paper during the 1979 General Election, but instead concentrate on their own local amateur sheet called “Bright Spark”. Bloomfield’s ally Dave Cook was soon National Organiser, but I never saw any evidence of effort in winning more readers by the Party organisation. In fact if that did happen it certainly was not evident in the Midlands. Things were so bad that I committed the cardinal sin of striking the new District Secretary, when I had great difficulty finding a verbal reply to what he called me. The truth is the “Euros” did as little as possible to help the paper and as much as they could to kill it.

During TUC week, the Party was traditionally supposed to make a special effort on the paper. Yet in 1980, the Midlands District did not order one single additional daily copy for that week. When I, as Midlands Circulation Organiser, phoned Dave Cook to ask him to raise it with McNally, he was not available and Margaret Woddis, who answered the phone at Party Centre, was surprised. So much for the Party winning readers. My apologies to many readers who may find this internal feuding not very important, but I think this brief background will help an understanding of later events. In short, the group around Marxism Today never accepted the British Road and used their heavily subsidised magazine to undermine and finally to destroy the Communist Party. They effectively killed a Party with a wonderful past record of service, to none; the Party which created stalwarts of the Labour Movement who were incorruptible and gave a lifetime’s commitment to working class values without personal gain.

Chapter 13 “Recovery or reversal”: the sacking of Derek Robinson

I was working as a Morning Star Circulation Representative and was no longer Midlands District Secretary of the Communist Party when Derek Robinson was sacked. Three other shop stewards, including Jack Adams, now (Adams had only recently been elected DGS at the time Frank was writing – he is now retired.) Deputy General Secretary of the TGWU, were also given a formal warning. Their misdemeanour was to be associated with a pamphlet issued by the Leyland Combine Trade Union Committee regarding the so-called recovery plan of British Leyland to close factories and cut car capacity.

Michael Edwardes took over as Chairman of British Leyland in October 1977. Within a matter of 15 months over 18,000 jobs had

disappeared and plants closed. Fifty thousand vehicles less than the previous year were produced and the so-called recovery envisaged

The crime of which Derek Robinson and his colleagues were judged guilty, like Arthur Scargill and the NUM, was to resist. The language

of the Combine Committee was too strong for Michael Edwardes. Drawing on the experience of Upper Clyde Shipbuilders, they announced that

they would encourage sit-ins and occupations if necessary to prevent closure. Michael Edwardes gave Trade and Industry Secretary, Sir Keith

Joseph, political ammunition by threatening to wind up the company, leaving Britain with no car industry of its own if the government

didn’t cough up an extra áœá500million to cover redundancy payments for at least 25,000 and possibly 50,000 jobs out of a workforce of

165,000.

So, on November 19 Derek Robinson was invited to meet the Longbridge Plant director, in the presence of the AEU District

Secretary. He was asked to withdraw his name from the combine pamphlet, which he refused to do. Previously there had been a ballot

of the workforce on the so-called recovery plan, the company practically blackmailing the workforce into acquiescence. The

government had coughed up the áœá500million and now everything would be fine – small and beautiful, with security once thousands of jobs were

shed, plants were closed and volume car production in Britain would be replaced by Fords of America and Honda of Japan.

I got a phone call from my daughter about 4.00 pm that afternoon enquiring what had happened at Longbridge. I asked why and Lesley told

me: “Derek has been sacked and Jack Adams has had a formal warning.” She knew because at the time she was working as a research worker for

the TGWU in the West Bromwich Regional Office. I was shocked. I phoned the Party office in Birmingham and casually they confirmed this

information. “What are you doing about it”, I demanded and was told that “Gordon McLennan (General Secretary of the Communist Party) is speaking tonight with Derek at Northfield and we will have a discussion.” I was not happy with this, so I said, “What about phoning around, visiting

other comrades to get a speedy reaction to this victimisation.” It was obvious the old style of work that some of us were used to (and still

utilise) had evaporated; that is to say you start to mobilise solidarity support before anything else.

I tried to get to this meeting, but fog prevented Mary Bourne and myself making it. I had already phoned Phyllis, Derek’s wife and she

put me in the picture. Once the news that Derek had been sacked got out, the whole factory stopped. They didn’t ask any questions, the

sacking of their convenor was sufficient to call a halt to any further production.

The Leyland Combine Committee was holding its regular meeting the

following morning in the T&G office in Broad Street, Birmingham. I

normally covered such meetings, selling the Morning Star outside. I

got there very early and instead of standing in the entrance, I went

to the room in which they were gathering before their meeting. What a

contrast their reaction was compared with the casual attitude of the

new Midlands Communist Party leadership. It was obvious the stewards wanted to do

something and fast.

When I came out, Tony McNally, then Midlands District Secretary of

the CPGB, was outside the T&G building. I asked him what had happened

the previous night; what action had been decided? His reply was: “We

are calling on the Combine to arrange a deputation to Leyland House in

Coventry”. By this time I had a contemptuous attitude towards McNally,

so in my pit language I spelled out my reaction. Here we had a

situation where a convenor had been sacked without any previous

written warning, which was against normal disciplinary practice – quite

outside the agreed procedures – and we were talking about a

deputation! I left McNally to sell the Morning Star and went to meet

Derek, Jack and Colin Willetts who hadn’t arrived. I told them I had

sounded the feeling, and everyone was ready for some kind of action,

including strike action. “We need a mass national demonstration and

rally no later than Monday next week”, I said. I got the usual

response, “Have we got time to organise such a demonstration and

rally? My reply was also the usual one: “Time is never on your side

when mass action is needed”. All three had implicit confidence in me.

Once you decide upon something, you move heaven and earth, or you are

not a very good organiser. Jack Adams said: “We have a lot on our

plate, but if you think it can be done go ahead and book the Digbeth

Hall”. I said, “What we need from this Combine meeting is a special

joint meeting of the district committees of the two main unions to get

them to request that this becomes an official strike”. They agreed:

“Leave everything to us”. I met the lads following their meeting and

discovered that I had indeed read the mood correctly. “Have you booked

Digbeth?” they asked. “No”, I said. They were puzzled: “Why not? You

hold shop stewards meetings in such a hall at a time like this.”

Calmly I explained: “I have booked the Town Hall; that holds 4,000!”

Despite the audacity of this they immediately answered: “Right, carry

on; what are your plans?” I told them: “Leave that to me, your job is

back on the picket line supporting the lads and lasses. The AUEW East

District Committee meets tonight, get them to endorse official strike

action”. Derek said: “That will be no trouble, but what about the T&G,

their role is vital?” I was clear what had to be done, “Leave that to

me”, I said, “I will see Brian Mathers this afternoon and put him in

the picture”. Brian, then the T&G Regional Secretary, had just come

out of hospital that week, so he was not aware of what was happening.

By this time I could visit Brian at home. It was a really cold day

and alongside a warm welcome that I was bringing all the news, Brian’s

wife, Mary, asked if I would like a bowl of homemade Irish stew. So I

put Brian in the picture. I had a copy of the Combine pamphlet and

showed him Clause 13, the offending section on which Leyland had taken

action. Brian was disturbed and pointedly said: “Why was only Derek

sacked, and the other two given a formal warning?” Brian knew the

score, in no way would the TGWU stand for such a breach of

disciplinary practice. When I told him my plans for a national

demonstration, really with only two working days to get any

mobilisation, he said: “You’re mad; we haven’t time to make a success

of such a massive demo.” I reminded him of the Pentonville Five, who

were arrested in the summer of 1972 on the Friday of the main

industrial holiday. Despite this, a mass action on the Monday secured

their release. I could see he then realised that I was not as mad as

he first thought, then he said: “What do you want me to do?” I was

conscious of his medical condition and I could see a look from Mary,

who might not have been so kind with her stew if she thought I had

come to pressure her husband to abandon his sick-bed and march through

Birmingham. Believe it or not, I am as soft as a brush when I deal

with good friends. “All I want from you is to phone the office and

tell them any printing needing to be done for Frank must get

priority”. He agreed immediately and then asked me: “How are you going

to communicate with other factories in other parts of the country?”

That was easy, I told him. “The Morning Star will do that.” And so it

did.

On Thursday morning a massive advert with full details appeared

in the Morning Star; and there was front-page coverage giving an

up-dated report, especially the decisions of the Combine meeting.

Brian asked me to keep him informed throughout. I promised him that I

would let him know in the morning how that night’s AUEW Birmingham

East District Committee went. This meeting would be crucial because,

with all the will in the world, the T&G could not be seen to be taking

the initiative in defending someone who wasn’t a member of their

union.

I was subsequently able not only to tell him that it was a

unanimous decision of the Birmingham East District Committee to call upon the Executive Committee of the AUEW to

declare an official strike, but that my daughter had heard a whisper

that coincidentally Moss Evans, the TGWU General Secretary, was on a

private visit to Birmingham that Thursday. When I told Brian, he said:

“I know nothing about this.” I replied: “Comrade, you are supposed to

be off sick, so that’s the reason.” Brian said: “Try to find out

exactly what Moss is doing and I will try to speak to him and maybe we

can get a meeting of all our stewards in the other plants to work for

the demo.” Not only did Brian get in touch with Moss, but by four

o’clock that afternoon all British Leyland T&G shop stewards were

summoned to attend a meeting with the General Secretary. From then on

the T&G flung everything into the campaign. Its national Finance &

General Purposes Committee met on the Friday morning and declared a

strike official should the AUEW do likewise. Official strike posters

were printed for the picket line on the Monday and strike headquarters

were set up near the factory. Everything was ready for action. But

wait for it – the inevitable and deliberate sell-out by the AUEW came,

just as we might have expected.

I was in Derek’s house on the Thursday morning of Moss’ visit

telling him what Brian was trying to do. Derek phoned Terry Duffy in

my presence. The telephone conversation was along these lines:

TD: “What happened at the East District Committee last night?”

DR: “A unanimous decision to request the EC to make it official.”

TD: “We are meeting on Tuesday and I don’t see any problem.”

DR: “We are organising a mass rally and demonstration. We are

inviting you and Moss Evans to address it.”

TD: “I will look at my diary and if I am free I will be there.”

Pic: The demonstration against the sacking of Derek Robinson.

Monday morning, five days after Derek was sacked, you couldn’t move at Snow Hill, Birmingham, where marches then usually assembled. Even Pete Carter paid me a compliment: “Well, Comrade, you can still motivate”. I can’t remember a phone call from the District Communist Party and certainly they never communicated with Derek. The demonstration was a tremendous success. T&G pickets were in force outside the factory gate that morning, but a big hurdle had still to be overcome…would Duffy honour his pledge? He didn’t show up and that made the stewards suspicious.

Two buses were booked to lobby the EC on the Tuesday at Peckham Road, the AUEW headquarters in London. When they got there all the Press were waiting for the result of the EC meeting. But as it turned out only the staff were at the headquarters. Edwardes had booked a room at the Stafford Hotel to carry out the execution with the seven men from the EC of the AUEW there to pull the rope.

I have never come across anything that matches up to what took place at this hotel. This was to be a totally private affair and management of the hotel guaranteed that. But lo and behold! The nerves of the seven EC team and the four from BL required regular cups of coffee. A city editor was making a phone call nearby when the waiter opened the door to deliver the coffee. To his surprise he saw some strange bedfellows – the entire EC of the AUEW secretly ensconced with the Leyland management. He immediately phoned his office, which informed their industrial correspondent, who in turn informed the other journalists and within minutes the Stafford Hotel was surrounded by reporters. In no way could they remain in this “secret” room, so arrangements had to be made to accommodate them in another part of the hotel. They were evacuated, through the kitchen, stepping over bags of rubbish and squeezing through gangways. The problem they had was that they needed two rooms for both teams to consider each other’s alternative proposals.

It was clear from the outset that Edwardes had no intentions of conducting positive negotiations – all he wanted was to corner the leadership of the AUEW, get them to delay any decision and he would use the extra time to put the fear of hell into a workforce already threatened with closure of the whole car industry.

Now, with a disillusioned workforce and Duffy telling the T&G to lay off, saying: “I can handle this,” in a phone call to Moss, the conditions were right for the sell out. John Boyd, the AUEW General Secretary, put forward a formula that Edwardes grasped with two hands. The AUEW would set up a Committee of Enquiry, during which the Company would make weekly ex-gratia payments equivalent to Derek Robinson’s normal wage. Robinson wouldn’t be allowed in the factory. The snag was that this meant that Derek remained on the Leyland payroll until the findings of the Enquiry were reached. Edwardes and his team couldn’t agree to this in case the Enquiry vindicated Derek. What they agreed upon was an ex-gratia payment that made up the difference between Derek’s unemployment benefit and his normal salary, but made it conditional this would end on the day the report was submitted. The AUEW then tried a face-saver: “If the Enquiry found that the dismissal was not, in their view, justified, they would again consider the question of an official strike.”

According to his own biography Edwardes said, “Okay, Terry, that’s a fair deal. But can you guarantee you will get Longbridge back to work?” Duffy knew what to do: “One call to Moss and I will tell him of our decision. The T&G can not carry on a strike over one of our members, without us.”

The oldest card in the pack was used – once you get strikers back to work on such conditions in an atmosphere of sell-out, they will never come out again. The company spokesman made it clear to the Press at the hotel: “The convenor will not be reinstated, he is not on the company’s payroll and his dismissal will stand.”

The Enquiry was set up under the Chairmanship of Gerry Russell and took months to make their submission. Before the findings were released to the members, and especially Derek, Duffy asked for a private meeting with management to explain the outcome of the report, which was an internal union enquiry. The “seven brave men”, as Edwardes described them, by all the evidence should have demanded

Derek’s reinstatement since the company was guilty of not carrying out correct disciplinary procedures. I would have liked to have been a fly on the wall. When the report was finally published, the AUEW decided to consult the workforce and if support was there they would call for an all out strike. Such hypocrites, knowing they had no chance of proper backing. Why would the membership bother? After all, who could trust such a bunch? A meeting was called in Cofton Park on a cold February morning. For weeks the media had been full of hate stories about “Red Robbo” – no one had ever called him that before. A hysterical atmosphere built up. Management used all the foremen to distribute leaflets, putting the fear of hell into the workforce. “Your choice is your job or Red Robbo”, they said. The night shift were paid overtime to stay over for the meeting. Staff were paid to come in early. The atmosphere was the worst I have ever experienced. It was like a racist lynching. It is the only time I can remember that I was so frightened I was unable to try and sell the paper.

The then District Secretary, Bill Jordan, was sent to do the dirty work

of the Chairman of the Enquiry, Gerry Russell, whom one would have

expected to give the report. Jordan put on as brave a face as

possible, but he knew the die was cast when his union leaders did a

deal with British Leyland and committed the unforgivable sin in any

trade union – refusing to defend rank and file shop stewards, the

backbone of the union.

The vote was overwhelming, with thousands rejecting strike action

and only a handful of loyal trade unionists in favour. I will never

forget the principled advice Derek gave to his colleagues, who were in

tears: “You must go back into the factory, elect a new convenor, give

him the support you gave me. Thanks, Comrades.”

Derek and I walked up to his house. Phyllis, by this time, was

showing the strain. All through these long weeks I was never far away

from Derek. In struggle you build bonds of friendship. As I recall

these events it is Derek’s 65th birthday and I can safely say we have

stuck by each other. But that can’t be said about the so-called

leaders of the Midlands CPGB, who at the time were preparing the

dissolution of the Party. The next few paragraphs will shock many

industrial comrades who always expected full-time officials of the

Party to protect the confidentiality of our industrial advisories.

Edwardes received by post minutes of a meeting of 14 Communists, some

not employed in the industry. He kept this just as insurance and

didn’t even show his own executives the document. Afterwards, he

claimed that this would be his trump card if the “seven brave men” of

the EC of the AUEW didn’t go along with him.

I got a phone call from Maurice Ludmer, who was the editor of an

anti-fascist magazine, “Searchlight”, one Friday evening. The call was

about a special team from the Sunday Times, which was investigating a

meeting of top Communists held the day after the Edwardes Plan to

“rescue” British Leyland was announced. He had been told that not all

present were employed at British Leyland and that they had got a set

of minutes that spelled out the strategy for resistance to the

Edwardes plan. They claimed it was the blueprint that the Leyland

Combine Trade Union Committee later endorsed. In the minutes, the full

names of the 14 present were listed along with the Party’s full plans

to issue Press statements, produce leaflets for distribution at the

factory and to get material into the Morning Star. In other words, a

detailed record of all decisions and names of those present was in the

hands of the Press.

The Sunday Times claimed that the document was sent anonymously to

them. Michael Edwardes in his book, “Back from the Brink”, also gives

full details, the only difference between them being that the Sunday

Times claims 16 present, while Edwardes says it was 17. Edwardes also

received the minutes anonymously and, as I have said, kept their

existence a tight secret. He claimed: “It was this pamphlet of the

Combine based on the minutes I had which led to Derek Robinson’s

dismissal.” He quotes a passage from the Combine pamphlet, “The

Edwardes plan and your job”. Then he goes on to write: “These words

lined up with the minutes of the 11th September but we shall never

know the truth”.

I can reveal the truth. I wasn’t present at that meeting as I was

no longer District Secretary. Derek was not present either. The

minutes make reference to D. Robinson, but both the Sunday Times and

Edwardes acknowledge it was Derek’s twin brother Dennis, now sadly dead. The minutes, published in the Sunday Times, say: “Jack A. made the main report and

after that we drew up our plans.” The pamphlet issued by the Combine

had four names as authors and was published by the Leyland Combine

Committee. Jack Adams’ address, as Secretary of the Combine, was

prominent and he wrote the pamphlet for which Derek was sacked. But

Edwardes knew he dare not take on the T&G, hence the selection of Derek

as the prime target.

What happened before this team of Sunday Times investigators came

to Birmingham, and the eventual outcome, can now be revealed, because

Derek is now retired and hence is not employed, Jack Adams has been

elected by postal ballot of T&G members and is safe from victimisation

and John Rowan, unfortunately, is dead and needs no protection. John

had a watertight alibi, that neither Edwardes nor the Sunday Times

could find out about and that was the time of this meeting. John

confirmed from his diary that he had an evening meeting on September

11. Edwardes and the Sunday Times both assumed the Communist Party meeting had been

in the evening. But, if they had checked, they would have found that

the AUEW had called a 24-hour strike on a national wage claim on that

day. This enabled these comrades to meet in the morning.

I was present when the two investigators from the paper visited

the Midlands District Office. I had phoned Tony McNally and told him

that I was going to be present, whether he liked it or not. The first

question was: “Do you keep minutes?” “Yes”, I answered. “Are these

minutes authentic?” they demanded. “What minutes?” I immediately took

control. Then they told us of a meeting on the evening of September 11

1979, where a group of Communist Party members employed in BL and other leading Communists such as Mick Costello, the Industrial Organiser of the Communist Party,

met to draw up plans to resist the Edwardes plan. My reply was, “You

must be joking.” The next question came: “Do you have industrial

advisories?” I answered: “Yes”, and they asked: “What kind?” I told

them: “Members of the Party in any given industry come together to

discuss common problems.” They wanted to know: “Does that include

combines?” I said, “Yes, but only members involved in such industries

are allowed to attend.” They picked me up on that, “How do you account

for people like Jon Bloomfield, the Party’s Secretary in Birmingham

being there? Or your friend standing here, not saying much, Tony

McNally.” I acted puzzled. “Who in the name of God told you that?” The

journalist responded, “These minutes.” I asked: “What minutes?”, and

he then proceeded to show me. I said, “Listen, have you ever heard of

a letter in 1924 that was supposed to have been sent and signed by

Zinoviev? Do you know that resulted in bringing down a Labour

Government and it was later proved to be nothing more nor less than

forgery? If you are not careful you will also be involved in an act of

forgery.” I could see they were not sure.

But we took no chances, everyone was told to keep quiet, except John Rowan who had the alibi to put them off the track. I saw John and told him that they were under the impression that it was a meeting on the evening of September

11th. John looked up his diary and saw “6.30 pm meet Victor Silcock.”

He was to meet a senior BL executive to discuss problems facing

white-collar workers and later to have a meal with him. How could he

possibly be at an evening meeting, unless Silcock was there also! When

the BL executive confirmed this, the Sunday Times came out with a

banner headline: “Communist group in Leyland campaign”, sub-headed:

“Minutes of cell meeting a forgery, they say”. The next time the

Sunday Times sends a team to investigate, they should check not only

the date on the minutes, but also the time! In this case their error

saved the Communist Party serious embarrassment. The treachery of the

AUEW leaders saved Edwardes from using his trump card only to reveal

it later in his book, and now Michael Edwardes, if you buy my book,

your query will be answered.

I have to be careful picking out a name of the 14 present who,

along with the Sunday Times and Michael Edwardes, received a copy by

post. Copies of the minutes were available on Jon’s desk. This I know,

because when Gordon McLennan phoned on Thursday September 13,

instructing Tony McNally to destroy all copies, Bloomfield objected as

he didn’t see anything wrong. When I saw them I went berserk. I had already

complained that there was too much in other minutes. This was at a

time when this group around “Marxism Today” was arguing for more

openness, and Bloomfield more than McNally was their man in the

Midlands. I wonder what they will think about Edwardes’ comment,

“Those minutes plus the combine book was what I needed to sack Derek

Robinson”.

I often wonder who was the culprit. The nearest in finding the

guilty person was The Sunday Times. Roger Murray, who, like Jimmy

Reid, when he failed to be elected as a Communist MP, left the Party,

said: “It could have been lifted from a broadsheet we have been

distributing”. What right had he or anyone else to publish extracts

from such a sensitive meeting which played a major role in Derek’s

sacking?

Whoever actually posted copies to Edwardes the real culprit is

undoubtedly Jon Bloomfield, for naming in the minutes all those

comrades present and for printing the extracts from Jack Adams’ report

that finally formed the basis of the Combine pamphlet. It confirms

the strong reservations so many of us had that Bloomfield, a clever

academic, but with no industrial or trade union experience, was the

wrong person to be sent to Birmingham to replace me when I took over

as Midlands District Secretary.

It was also Jon Bloomfield, the “Marxism Today” man in the

Midlands, who played a major role at the 1977 Congress in winning a

policy, which created the basis for the divorce of the Communist Party and the

Morning Star, the beginning of the end of the Party in fact.

Derek Robinson was now sacked. When the Enquiry dragged into a

fourth month, it had exceeded the time limit for a claim to an

Industrial Tribunal for unfair dismissal. An appeal was lodged

requesting a hearing, given the special circumstances whereby the

employers and the trade union had agreed to a procedure without the

applicant being consulted. The Chairman ruled that Derek had preferred

to use the industrial muscle of the trade union, rather than the

Government’s machinery for settling industrial disputes, so he had

caused his claim to be out of time.

It was obvious that Gerry Russell, the Chairman of the Enquiry was

aware of this time limit, and that they were hoping that Derek would

lodge a claim at the tribunal for unfair dismissal. This would have

got the AUEW off the hook. The Enquiry could have evaded the need to

call for strike action. The Chairman of the tribunal made it clear

that if Derek had appealed for unfair dismissal it would have been

upheld. The company was wrong sacking an employee without any previous

formal warnings. The QC representing BL was told very clearly that

this was no way to conduct good labour relations.

It was a very sad day in the history of British trade unionism,

when a union with a proud past history refused to uphold the most

elementary duty of any trade union, to defend local officials

victimised by management. Now the task that faced the shop stewards at

Longbridge was to build their organisation with a disillusioned and

sometimes hostile workforce. To his credit, Jack Adams took over the

job of the convenor and built a good collective works committee. By

the nature of employee-employer relations, this workforce soon

realised that this struggle was not about one person; it had been a

device to weaken the trade union organisation. Soon the most loyal

shop stewards were back on the shop floor, unable to represent members

effectively. Many others, especially AUEW stewards, flung in their

tools. The AUEW, which previously dominated the works committee, now

struggled to retain one representative on it, as the TGWU took over.

Arguably, Longbridge was the single most important centre of

manufacturing industry trades unionism, the Party’s most significant

base in industry. Derek’s sacking was clearly a concerted attack, with

the Tory Government’s fingerprints all over the murder weapon. It was

the first major defeat for the movement after Thatcher’s victory in

the 1979 General Election and set a tone for things to come. A missed opportunity to secure a victory that would have set the Tories

thinking. After this came a careful strategy of taking on one by one

the battalions of labour in isolation.

Chapter 14 “A bark worse than his bite, he was no idle shirker. To get in his good books, just sell the Daily Worker” Farewell to Birmingham, hello again to Barnsley.

In September 1980, when I was the Morning Star circulation

representative I was involved in an unfortunate incident in which I

hit Tony McNally, the Midland District Secretary, and broke his

glasses. This resulted from a report I submitted on the Party’s

responsibility for putting on extra copies of the paper during TUC

week. McNally was one of those who supported the idea that it was the

Party’s responsibility to win readers and it was the paper’s

responsibility to retain them. The report showed that the Midlands

Party had not put on one single extra daily reader for that week.

McNally challenged this, claiming Coventry had taken 25 extra copies.

I was aware that Kay Hosey had ordered 25 copies for her trade union

branch on the Wednesday, but this was a ‘one off’.

There were some heated words between us and McNally, in a burst of temper, shouted out, “Are you calling me a liar?” I said: “No, but the Coventry order is an isolated effort. But the Party, and that means you as District

Secretary, is not doing the job and it is obvious you are not

interested in promoting the paper.” He guiltily replied in the most

vicious tone and said, “You bastard, you bastard – you are finished.”

I found great difficulty in finding a verbal reply. I apologised and

promised to pay for any damage done to his spectacles. He agreed to

forget about it as the only witness was Peter Shepherd who had taken

over from Jon Bloomfield, who had completed his short stint as an

apparatchik and done his hatchet job.

I understand that after consultation with Pete Carter, who was by

this time a full time organiser for UCATT, McNally was advised that

the matter should be reported to the Party Centre and to the Morning

Star, as any physical assault is a serious offence. This resulted in

the Morning Star having to give me a formal warning, but in an

understandable way, knowing that I must have been severely provoked to

commit such an offence. I can’t say the same when, along with McNally,

I was summoned to meet Gordon McLennan, the General Secretary of the

Communist Party. Gordon was known as Cocky Wee Gordon and spent most of his

political career as first Scottish Organiser and, later, National

Organiser. From my experience with Gordon, he treated most things from

an organisation angle and lacked the political ability to handle

comrades who may have had some differences with him. By this time the

relationship between the Party and the Paper was, to say the least,

very strained, and anyone identified with the Morning Star was not his

favourite comrade.

I had submitted a long, detailed report admitting my mistake, but

I said to Gordon: “My apprenticeship in the Party was in the most

difficult area in the UK for a Communist to operate. You have known

me for nearly 40 years. During that period I have been subjected to

physical assault, especially during the Korean War. I have had to

endure all kinds of insults, including being called a Communist

bastard. At no time did I stoop even to consider replying with

violence.” This had no effect on him.

McNally, backed up by Pete Shepherd, claimed that the word bastard

was used after I struck him. In front of McNally I replied: “Gordon,

if you are prepared to accept their version against mine, that is up

to you. But, as you know, it is not my character to be violent unless

I am provoked beyond my dignity and that man repeatedly called me a

bastard and said, ‘You are finished’.” McNally never replied. In such

circumstances, I lost what little respect I still had for Gordon, whose

period as General Secretary proved beyond all shadow of doubt that he

was weak when faced either with political problems or with handling

people. All I asked was that McNally should have been rebuked, because

his being District Secretary didn’t give him a licence to provoke with

such insulting words, which in most circumstances would end up in

violence. When the industrial comrades got to know, they understood

because McNally also had a reputation of being “economical with the

truth.”

Following this incident, I found it impossible to work with the

Midlands leadership and became more contemptuous of people who

deliberately told lies. I then got a phone call from my friend Arthur in Barnsley. “I want to see you about coming back to Yorkshire”. I said. “OK, I’ll come up next weekend.” The election for the National President of the NUM was soon to

take place and Arthur always claimed there was no better organiser

than me. He made an offer I couldn’t resist, but which, unfortunately,

he was never able to deliver. I had no hesitation in agreeing, knowing

him as I did, and confident that if he could not deliver his promises

he would be the first to see I didn’t go without a pound.

Accommodation was arranged in Barnsley; Anne and another lass had a

big blazing coal fire and a meal for the three comrades who came from

Birmingham with my belongings.

Before I left Birmingham a farewell social was arranged but,

again, the leadership hadn’t a clue about the wide respect I had

earned from all sections of the Midlands community. McNally approached

me to inform me that they had agreed to hold this farewell social in

the club and the Morning Star Bazaar Committee would take care of the

catering. I told him to stuff it. Who did he think he was talking to?

Or maybe it was just another way of insulting me. The social club

couldn’t hold more than 100. When I told Pete Carter, to his credit,

he was furious and said: “Go ahead, book the Co-op, organise it

yourself and don’t worry about money, the Movement will cover all the

necessary cost.”

This farewell social was described in the Morning Star as, “The

farewell gathering that united the left”. Over 400 attended from all

strata of the community and Labour Movement. “A true son of the

working class” was how Ken Cameron of the FBU described me. “Frank”,

he said, “played a vital part in the great strike actions, the miners,

the steel workers and firemen”. Jack Lally, Secretary of the Midlands

NUM, paid tribute to my outstanding leadership in the shutting down of

poem, which I proudly display in my home. I think I can be excused if I

include it in this book, because it reflects the hidden talent in so

many sons and daughters of our class.

ODE TO FRANCIS WATTERS

When it comes to beautiful Braes & Lochs, Scotland has got lots

A miner’s son is our hero from Lanarkshire and Shotts

He headed south for England, so goes this wondrous tale

Then stopped and rested for a while, on a lovely Yorkshire Dale

At mining work our Frank did graft, he always did his bit,

He helped make miners militant in many a Yorkshire pit

Frank then became a leader, one whose past will never fade

We shook and trembled at that voice – “Come here, see mean, comrade”

A bark worse than his bite, he was no idle shirker

To get in his good books, just sell the Daily Worker

A dedicated Communist, who always worked so hard

He was the inventor of the begging Xmas Card

Our District Secretary Frank became, no more meetings in the pub

He soon had people working on the building of our club

The years past by, Frank carried on, known both near and far

At every strike and demo, he sold the Morning Star

The Austin Joint Shop Stewards think Frank is still the king

He turned up at our picket lines, then organised the thing

At Saltley Gates, Sanderson’s, Grunwick’s and Blackpool Tower

Frank showed his strength, his skill, his wit and the use of

workers power

Now Frank moves on to Barnsley, to us Brummies there’s a rub

The door’s already open at the Miners Welfare Club

We’ll miss you Frank, through thick and thin, you always did your

best

To put the Party on the map, to stand out from the rest

You’ve never had much money, worked not for personal gain

There will always be a welcome when you come to Brum again

How can a town like Barnsley pay a transfer fee so high

To a man with guts and calibre who makes sure our goal won’t die

So from me and Big Joe Glenholmes, if fly posting ends in jail

Pop down to Brum to see us, AND DON’T FORGET THE BAIL.

Ken King

Now after 14 years in the West Midlands, first as Birmingham City

Secretary, then District Secretary, many years on the national EC of the Communist Party, finally as the Morning Star Circulation Representative, I left Birmingham with fond memories and many friends. I loved the diversity

and the challenge this wonderful working class posed, but they

certainly don’t deserve the right-wing heritage of the Terry Duffys,

Bill Jordans, Roy Hattersleys and many more who are firm advocates of

the emancipation of the working class, but “one at a time,” beginning

with the bureaucrats and apparatchiks.

In these next chapters, I will leave the reader to judge from my

subsequent activity back in Yorkshire from 1981 to the present day, if

McNally was right when he said: “You are finished.” I am sure many

will forgive me for finding the strength and guts to strike in defence

of my dignity and for my failure to find a suitable reply.

But before I leave my recollections of the Midlands, let me record

two interesting sidelights. As I mentioned, one of the things I had to

master during my fourteen years in the Midlands was the ability to

deliver the kind of oration at secular funerals, which did justice to

the deceased and gave comfort to the family and friends. This I think

I did with honours. There are two that will always stand out in my

memory. There was an old comrade called Arthur George who died in a

prison hospital, committed for killing a brother of his life-long lady

friend with whom he had a platonic friendship for over 40 years.

Arthur was one of seven children. His father had died from wounds in

the Boer War and the authorities decided that as a single parent his

mother was able to keep only two of her children, the others being

placed in care under what was called “The Poor Law”. Arthur was sent

to a home at the age of three where he remained until he was 17. Here

he developed a common childhood disease, measles, which developed into

an ear and throat infection causing deafness. This illness also left

Arthur with what he used to curse as “his stinking running ears,”

which often made him untouchable. He learned to be a carpenter, but,

more important, taught himself to read, especially history, and the

1917 Russian Revolution caught his imagination. He joined the army,

not to kill anyone, but for two other reasons; one to see other parts

of the world and the other to sow his wild oats. He didn’t see much of

the world, spending most of his time in trenches. As for the other

aspect, this also was a very disappointing experience because in

France he had to pay for it and, being an ardent walker, he soon gave

up this other hobby because of the cost and the way it sapped too much

of his energy.

His social background and defects meant that “Old May”, as he

called his lady friend, who was a talented pianist and only daughter,

never got her father’s permission to marry him. Arthur was employed

at, and, in the late Forties, was allowed to live in, the big

expensive house as a handy man and a talented gardener. When May died

she hadn’t prepared a will, so this brother or stepbrother claimed

the house and Arthur found himself back again in an institution,

surrounded by old people. He hated every minute of it. Then this heir

to the house put it up for sale and sent Arthur a letter telling him

to go and tidy up the surroundings, cut the grass, water the plants,

etc. This of course was too much for Arthur who knew there was never

any affinity between “Old May” and this person. That afternoon,

instead of carrying out his instructions, Arthur visited this person

and, with a pair of scissors, he committed the act that led to his

arrest for murder.

I was informed, but could do nothing until the Monday when, along

with Jock Leishman, and his wife, Chris, who looked after both May and

Arthur, I visited a solicitor and explained the circumstances. Also, I

had a six page typed document that a friend of mine, Ted Baker, had

taped and transcribed of Arthur and May’s life-long relationship. The

solicitor just couldn’t believe his eyes. “This is all I need — don’t

worry he will be alright,” he said. In the event, despite the solicitor’s confidence that he would be placed in a prison hospital, Arthur was actually

found guilty of murder and sentenced to ‘life’ imprisonment. Not that life meant

very much at his age. I visited Arthur regularly, encouraging him to

keep writing about his life. He was in Winson Green prison, but he was

allowed out in the yard all day, walking and chatting to his fellow

prisoners; happy as Larry. The only problem he had was cold winter

nights in his cell when he had to wrap himself in a blanket and walk

around the cell to keep warm.

When he died in prison hospital, I was asked by Jock and Chris to

do his oration. The social workers from the hospital attended and

expressed their gratitude for the dignity of the service and the

number of comrades who had attended. I had many letters from Arthur,

but there was one in which he told me that on his 80th birthday he had

sold his heart and kidneys to medical science for a substantial sum of

money. He was concerned that the beneficiaries would not know where to

find him in his new “accommodation.” On the other hand, he ventured,

when his time came to face the Lord, there would be no excuse for His

rejecting him on the grounds that he had disposed of such vital

organs! It is unfortunate that no one has ever written a pamphlet on this

unique working class philosopher.

The other funeral I will mention has a much funnier ending. Tommy

Degnan, an old friend and comrade, who back in the 1950s in his

inimitable way questioned whether or not I would survive in the

Yorkshire coalfield, requested that Arthur Scargill and I should

conduct his funeral. It was organised chaos from beginning to end.

Scargill phoned me and requested that he should do the first stint, as

I had more experience and could fit in anything he may have left out.

Fair enough, but it was only after we left the crematorium that I

learned what this sod had done to me. After his usual immense

appreciation for what Tommy had done for him as a young trade

unionist, he pressed the button. The curtain started to close and I

kept signalling for them to be opened. I was not aware of the

mechanism at the crematorium. Once the curtain closes the body starts

moving. There I was pouring out my heart and soul, pledging to Tommy

what we would do to fulfil his inspiration. By the time I was saying

goodbye, Tommy, we will miss you but never forget you, his ashes were

already in the bin! When I came out of the crematorium Scargill had a

big smile on his face. “What are you laughing at? I never burst out

laughing when you were doing your piece.” Then he went on to tell me

what had happened – a story which only he can tell and which has

raised many a laugh in its subsequent recounting.

Chapter 15 “A healthy political atmosphere – back in Yorkshire and the Peoples’ March for Jobs

Coming back to Yorkshire was just what I needed after my unhappy

political experience during the last few months in Birmingham. There was a welcome from every corner, including the Yorkshire District Communist Party. I was co-opted on to the District Committee and Secretariat and began

attending my local branch, where there was a very friendly atmosphere.

I began helping out with Gordon Ashberry, Sheffield Secretary of the

Communist Party, raising money for the movement, which I am good at. Visiting pits, making contact with local NUM officials to get extra readers for the Morning Star became a daily routine. I built up contacts in pits and

factories so that extra copies, especially for special features, only

required a phone call and early morning deliveries. Selling the paper

outside the NUM Area Council monthly meeting became a good way of keeping

contact with local leaders. The Sheffield AUEW leader, George Caborn

had retired but was still very active, especially with the Morning

Star, and this meant I was being introduced to many leading trade

union officials and shop stewards. My friend Arthur was still

President of the Yorkshire Area of the NUM at this stage and

facilities were provided for me to do research work. All daily

newspapers at my disposal, and there was a friendly staff and area officials

who all appreciated my years in the coalfield, whilst the name Frank Watters

was a legend following Saltley. Even my `Barnsley friend’ gives me the

credit for this victory!

It was in this healthy political atmosphere that I flung myself

into many of the class battles which expose the myth that the “Forward

March of Labour has halted”. What these pseudo-Marxists have lost is

the basic understanding of Marxism. As long as you have a ruling

class, based on the exploitation of its workforce you will have class

struggles and I am sure this will be a feature in Eastern Europe once

the big monopolies manage to exploit the rich mineral wealth there,

especially in the republics of the former Soviet Union. My record of

work since my return to Yorkshire up to writing this book will show

that my successor as Secretary of the Midland Communist Party made a false

assessment when he said to me: “You are finished” – and those who know my

three brothers know that the older we became the more our features are

similar. So we must have had the same father and that proves he was

also wrong in this second slanderous accusation that helped to make my

life so miserable in the last days I was in Birmingham.

There were two major political events I was immediately involved

in, the “Peoples March” against unemployment in May 1981 from

Liverpool to London, and later that year Arthur Scargill on a left

unity ticket was elected as NUM National President on the highest

majority of any previous President. The main propaganda material was

“Arthur’s little red book”. This controversial pamphlet for radical

changes in the mining industry was often compared with another popular

“Little Red Book”, the book of Chairman Mao and his thoughts on the

Chinese Cultural Revolution! Arthur quite rightly argues that he was

elected on a radical programme, which included a warning to the

Government and the Coal Board that a miners’ union with him at its

head would use strikes to protect pits and jobs; more on this later, of course.

The Peoples March for jobs, May 1 to May 30, 1981, from Liverpool

to London was one of the greatest events of the post war. I can

remember as a young boy, the hunger marches from Edinburgh to London

and the way especially the Communist Party worked so hard to provide a

meal and a hall to rest the weary bones of marchers. But this was

different. Here you see the advantage of a Labour Movement committed

to take on the fight for jobs. Not only did it give the moral support but

also thousands of pounds to provide the clothing, footwear, medical care

and at least three good meals per day. No trouble at all in getting local

authorities where Labour was in control to provide leisure centres for

a good swim and shower. Nowhere was this more profound than when the

marchers arrived in London, where Labour controlled the County Hall.

This meant a right ‘royal’ welcome with over 200,000 people turning

out to greet the marchers, which by this time was over 500 strong with

marchers from Liverpool, Midlands, Yorkshire and a small contingent

from South Wales, who were determined not to be left out. When we

arrived in Trafalgar Square, there were thousands more that had

travelled from all parts of the country. Here was a mass united

movement on an issue so dear to those of us that remembered the hungry

30s and who were responsible for sweeping Labour into power in 1945.

Unfortunately, like many opportunities, both the Labour Party and the

TUC were as much afraid of such a mass movement as the Tories, because

such movements might generate ideas, not just a change of Government,

but a change of direction for society.

In spite of pressure on the TUC to do more than offer sympathetic

words, they failed to build on the triple alliance that emerged during the march, of trades unionists, the public and the unemployed. Young

people were especially prepared to do something about their plight. In

fact, when the idea of a repeat march in 1983 was proposed, the General

Council was reluctant to sponsor it.

The South Yorkshire campaign, in which I was highly involved, was

magnificent. A high powered team of leading trade union officials,

shop stewards and community organisations all worked under the

guidance of the Yorkshire Regional TUC, which had a good stalwart of

the trade union and women’s movement, Beryl Huffinley, as Secretary,

and Owen Briscoe, Yorkshire Area President of the NUM, as Chairperson.

This meant we had no trouble getting the Yorkshire Area of the NUM to

give full backing and to put their money behind its success. I was in

charge of the coalfield campaign, raising money to sponsor unemployed

miners’ sons and daughters and others. We got NUM branches to sponsor

over seventy marchers at £100 each, plus some spending money. Everything was

done above board; Within weeks of the marchers’ return from London in 1981, a meeting of the South Yorkshire Steering Committee was called where an audited

balance-sheet was presented showing a balance remaining of nearly £2,500 on an

expenditure of over £26,000, finely detailed. The balance was duly handed to the Regional TUC treasurer, Harry Holland.

The Party emerged with flying colours, taking its rightful place

in the vanguard. At the centre of it all was Gordon Ashberry,

Sheffield City Secretary of the Communist Party, backed up with well-known

Communists such as Percy Riley and myself. I wish we could say the

same for the 1983 People’s March where we saw the underhand and

destructive role of those “Communists” elected by the Regional

Council, based on the reputation that the Party had earned over the

years of honesty, working as a collective in the best interest of the

movement. The “Euros” were now actively distancing themselves from the

Labour Movement.

The Tory Party Conference was being held in Blackpool in October

and Margaret Thatcher was due to speak on Friday, October 16. The idea

of a “Trans-Pennine March”, starting from Sheffield, arriving in

Blackpool on October 15 was being canvassed and the marchers were

willing. This was not a difficult task. After all we had a sound

financial start and with our previous experience in raising money we

agreed to go ahead. But now we began to see the disastrous results of

the Euros trying to distance themselves from the Regional TUC and the

setting up of a loose grouping of Town Committees that would organise

the March and appeal locally to the trade unions to finance it.

In other words a small group, mainly in the hands of the Euros, would

inherit this goodwill. I made my position clear, unless the

arrangements and the financial control were under control of the

Regional TUC, I wouldn’t touch it. A Communist Party meeting was arranged between three of us from South Yorkshire and three from Leeds, West Yorkshire.

The two main advocates for a loose organisation were Bill Innes and

Roy Rix. Dave Priscott had to use his casting vote in favour of

getting the support of the Yorkshire and Humberside Regional TUC. This

meant full support and no trouble in getting sponsorship. A

balance sheet was issued following the March that this time showed a

surplus of £4,875.63p.

All this experience decisively influenced what happened in the

next National People’s March starting from Glasgow on April 23rd 1983,

arriving in London on June 5th/6th. This time it had the official support

of the TUC, arising from a resolution from the NUM that the TUC should

set up a National Organising Committee composed of representatives

from the TUC Regional Councils and trade unions.

A meeting of the Regional TUC was called. The minutes record that

Roy Rix had been appointed to act as March Co-ordinator. On finance,

in respect of the mining area, donations would be made to Ken Homer,

Finance Officer of the Yorkshire NUM, and in turn would be forwarded

to the regional TUC. Harry Holland was to be Regional Finance Officer.

Jean Miller was appointed as the coalfield organiser. As usual, my

name couldn’t appear but everyone, including the Secretary, Beryl

Huffinley, and Ken Homer, who was now standing in for Owen Briscoe,

knew of my involvement. When I saw Ken Homer he said: “I expect you

will be able to play your usual role, guiding and looking after the

campaign without your name appearing on the Committee because, this

being under the auspices of the Regional TUC your name can’t appear.

That’s why Jean Miller was appointed with an understanding that you

will be the driving force”.

It did not work like that; Roy Rix took over and Jean was put in

charge of finance, but as Barnsley Branch Communist Party Treasurer she had been accustomed to handling only a few pounds, and now found herself

responsible for thousands. I knew this would prove too much for her to

cope with. It wasn’t long before the Euros showed their hand. Instead of

carrying out the instructions of the Regional TUC, that Ken Homer

should receive all donations, appeal letters asked for cash to be

forwarded to Jean. Her responsibility was to ensure sufficient sponsors were being

signed up and she was not supposed to have anything to do with the

sponsorship fees. Within two weeks of Roy Rix becoming the March

Co-ordinator he called a meeting on Friday, 11th March at 8.00 pm in

Barnsley. What NUM representative would be likely to attend a meeting

at that time and day?

Jean’s appointment as Treasurer created a rumpus. I was

being phoned asking why money should be addressed to her and not, as

previously, to the NUM Financial Secretary in line with TUC policy.

This meant that branches were reluctant to donate from their funds. I had a

phone call from Roy Rix asking to meet him, as the coalfield response

was bad. I agreed, but I made my point, no money should be banked in

anyone’s personal account. This was not only happening with sponsor’s

fees, but also with the cash from the sale of merchandise.

The result of all this was disastrous. The respected name of the

Communist Party was now to be dragged in the mud. One day Owen Briscoe, then

General Secretary of the Yorkshire Area of the NUM, collared me in the

centre of Barnsley and said, “I have been wanting to talk to you about

Jean Miller and Roy Rix, but I didn’t want the staff to hear our

conversation”. In his usual blunt way he let loose at these two

comrades. “Never did I think any member of the Communist Party would embarrass the movement in this way. These bastards put Beryl and me in a spot. I

have always supported any Communist Party member recommended by Beryl. From my association with people like Jock Kane, Eric Browne and yourself, I

would trust my life with any of them. But these pair of bastards had

better not put their foot in the miners’ offices as long as I am

General Secretary.”

This meant that during the 1984/85 miners’ strike, Roy Rix, South

Yorkshire Area Secretary of the Communist Party, was not in a position even to

visit the Yorkshire Area of the NUM, let alone have a discussion with

the area leadership. In fact I can’t remember Roy Rix being on a

picket line in the South Yorkshire area or visiting any of the South

Yorkshire strike centres. I was informed that following the march,

neither Jean Miller nor Roy Rix made an appearance for some time to

report to the Regional Finance Officer, in spite of repeated requests

for a financial statement. After a lapse of many weeks a statement was

I became involved in the Lyons Bakery dispute from its beginning as I was living

in the area and I made the acquaintance of the pickets as I passed them

every morning and evening. Soon I was introduced to the Vickers

brothers, John, the leader, ably supported by his brother, Sam. Many of the workforce they led were women and, though the wages were not generous, they often provided a vital income for families in an area

of high unemployment. The local pits at Monk Bretton, Carlton and Wharncliffe had already been closed some years before the wave of

closures heralded by the 84/85 strike and the bakery had been built on

derelict land left vacant by former pits. The industrial estate on

which it was built was a key element in the local authority’s efforts

to generate new industry, to fill the void left behind by the

shrinking coal industry, and local councillors were keen to see a

settlement to the dispute.

One of them telephoned me and asked me what chances there were of

the strike committee accepting arbitration. I asked him who he had in

mind to arbitrate and he asked me if I had any suggestions. Off the

cuff, I thought of Professor Michael Barrett Brown who was Principal of

the nearby Northern College, the local authority funded “Ruskin of the

North”. He thought the company would welcome any suggestions, as they

were keen to see an early settlement of the dispute. I asked John and

Sam to get the strike committee to consider the proposition but the

strike was absolutely solid and, with the money that was coming in

from pit collections and the other local support they were enjoying,

the strikers were in no mood for compromise. I told John and Sam that

I was confident that the outcome would be favourable and they agreed

to call a committee meeting after the imminent Easter holiday.

I was spending the Easter holiday in Birmingham and on my way

there I was held up by a lorry that had broken down on the motorway.

The lorry was loaded with spirits, which had to be disposed of, and I

acquired a bottle of brandy at a very reasonable price. Returning home

from the holiday weekend, I stopped to have a word with the pickets at

the bakery. I told the women pickets on the line it looked like being

a cold night and I gave them the brandy to warm themselves up. I went

home and phoned John to arrange to meet him at mid-day the next day,

after the strike committee meeting so that we could get on with

arranging a briefing for Professor Barrett Brown.

When I arrived at the picket line the following lunchtime I was

met by a very glum faced John. “How did it go?’ I cheerily enquired.

“How did it go?” he wailed. “There was a group of women on the picket

line last night and they came into the meeting at eight this morning

completely pissed up. I could not get any sense out of them. What I

can’t understand is where they got the drink from.” I looked him in the eye and made my confession. “Sorry, comrade. I

gave them a bottle of brandy to keep them warm during the night.” The

meeting had decided: no compromise, no arbitration, a fight to the end

and victory.

It was obvious the firm still wanted a settlement so I suggested

that the union approach the management and tell them that they also

wanted a speedy resolution of the dispute but that they would prefer

to do it without outside intervention. It worked; a settlement was

reached and the union in the plant went from strength to strength.

John became Yorkshire and Humberside District Secretary for the Bakers

Union and Sam became a regional officer.

During this dispute I introduced John to various NUM Branch

Secretaries. There was no problem getting cash from the pits as many

of the miners’ wives or daughters worked at Lyons, but this was John’s

first foray into the class struggle and he suddenly found himself with

the unfamiliar role of public speaker, addressing packed meetings of

miners’ delegates and officials. At that time there were still about

20 pits in the Barnsley and Carlton areas and they were represented by

the Panel of about 80 delegates, most of them experienced and

articulate speakers. John had to face them and explain why the Lyons

workers were on strike. I knew he was nervous, but I assured him that

the Panel chairman, Ron Rigby, would give him all the help he needed.

He must have made an impression because the financial support flowed

in. John has since told me that as a union official he has had to

speak at conferences and on occasions at the TUC, but addressing that

crowded room full of miners was the most frightful experience of his

life.

During the 84/85 miners’ strike the Lyons workforce honoured their

debt to the miners and their families. Twice a week a vanload of

cakes, pies and pastries arrived at the Barnsley strike centre at the

Junction Inn, just outside the town centre. Of course John and Sam,

who made the deliveries, were obliged to stop for a chat and to buy

the striking miners a pint or two, so it began to become a costly

excursion for them. The bakery management were approached and they

agreed to a token payment to cover these out of pocket expenses!

The Bakers Union at Lyons repaid their debts in other ways, too.

Through their good offices, I was able to buy plenty of cakes and

pastries from a special shop at the bakery when the local branch of

the British Soviet Friendship Society was entertaining a party of

visitors from the Soviet Union and the Morning Star Bazaars also

benefited from the same source. One good turn deserves another!

“Frank Watters taught us what trades unionism was about.”

By John & Sam Vickers

The Bakers, Food and Allied Workers Union, who represented more

than 1,600 members at Carlton in Barnsley and in Wakefield, were forced to withdraw their labour in April 1982. Although this struggle

revolved around the January wage settlement, the dispute was actually

about the disclosure of information. The representatives, led by

brothers John Vickers (Branch Secretary) and Sam Vickers (Senior Shop

Steward), insisted that we needed the information to negotiate on

equal terms with the company. The company had always denied the Union

the information in previous years.

However, none of the representatives at Carlton had very much

experience and they lacked confidence. 1982 was different. We had a

massive vote in favour of industrial action, 1,277 for, 44 against. We started that action with a work to rule in mid-April. The Union

at this stage was very pleased at the way things were going. Our

members were supporting any action that the representatives were

asking. However, two weeks into the work-to-rule the company went to

the night shift members at both Carlton and Wakefield at 1.00

a.m., issuing them with an ultimatum. They told our members that if they

did not work normally they would not be paid. Every one of our members

marched off into the canteen. The night shift steward rang the

secretary and senior steward. We held a meeting and decided we would

picket the day shift, and inform them what had happened. For the first

time the Union was not in control of the pace of the dispute.

Many of the officials had never been in this situation; most had

never been shop stewards. We were well organised inside while we were at work and we thought

we were not doing too badly outside the gates. We had informed the

Union nationally, set up our picket line and our District Secretary

was writing to other branches. Cracked it! Then, enter Frank Watters; he just appeared on the picket,

asking for our secretary. He picked us up by the scruff of the neck,

gave us names of contacts for help. He took the secretary and other

officials to meet Owen Briscoe, who was Secretary of the Yorkshire

NUM. From that meeting John Vickers was allowed to address the NUM

Council appealing for help. This proved to be greater than we ever

imagined. NUM secretaries were coming to our picket line asking for

our secretary, asking what help we needed and making donations to the

strike fund. NUM members were coming to the picket line giving

cigarettes, fuel and moral support. Frank Watters gave us many

contacts for other organisations, in particular the Trades Council.

But many of the officials at Carlton received much more from

Frank, they received guidance, experience, but most of all they

learned lessons that can only be taught by special people. He also

gave friendship. We met many new friends, particularly in the NUM.

When the miners’ strike started two years later, we knew what we had

to do. We owed the miners. We did not need to be asked for help, we

knew from our experience. Frank Watters taught us what trade unionism was about. We are all Comrades.

Rodney Bickerstaffe, General Secretary of NUPE, the largest union in the National Health Service, was the guest speaker at the Rotherham May Day Rally in 1982. I was introduced to him by one of the NUPE Officers, Sean Hilliard, whom I had met many times in the Labour Club in Wakefield during the People’s March campaign. Rodney said, “Frank, will you do for the nurses what you did for the miners in 1972”. My reply was simple: “I will do my best.”

A claim for a “common case” increase in wages and a reduction in working hours had been submitted in December 1981, uniting 15 unions in a variety of national bargaining units. The Secretary of State responsible for the NHS, as usual, tried to divide the various grades of workers by offering some 6.4 per cent and others, including senior nurses, increases worth only 4 per cent. All these were rejected and everything possible was done by the unions to avoid industrial action, including an agreement to go to arbitration or to the Government’s own conciliation body, ACAS. But the Government refused to budge. After all, if midwives and nurses come out on strike, who suffers? The TUC was called in to co-ordinate industrial action, but it was confined only to those covered by the claim. The 15 unions involved met on May 10th 1982 and declared a 24-hour national stoppage of work on May 19th. Starting on May 27th there were to be two-hour stoppages organised locally every Thursday.

The 15 unions involved should have done what the leadership of the NUM did, in Yorkshire, where we had three full days of action in support of the nurses and supported them on all their demonstrations. Arthur Scargill had just taken over the National Presidency. He had a meeting with Rodney Bickerstaffe on the day before the 24 hours stoppage took place and issued a Press release pledging full support to the nurses, including industrial action. That’s what you call leadership, and that’s what the miners needed when their turn came shortly after the nurses. The help the miners gave to the nurses was repaid with interest during the 84/85 miners’ strike, especially by Arthur’s Yorkshire friend, Rodney Bickerstaffe. Maybe Rodney had this in mind when, agreeing to help in advertising this book, he said, “Frank could always be relied upon when any section of the movement needed his help.”

There were two incidents during the nurses’ dispute when my friends Roger Poole and Sean Hilliard were involved. On a day of action, when the pits stopped work in support of the nurses, we had been tipped off that an effort would be made to break the ranks at Grimethorpe pit. Nurses were mobilised from the Pontefract and Wakefield hospitals and asked to join the miners’ picket. No trouble getting volunteers, but when Sean and Rodney realised that they would need to set off at 3.00 o’clock in the morning the idea was not as attractive as it first appeared. To their credit they arrived and the TV crew was present for the scoop. To their pleasant surprise, Sean and Roger enjoyed the early morning air and once the few miners who turned up saw the “Official Strike” placards that was enough. After a friendly chat with the TV crew, Sean managed to get a special interview so he was happy. Roger did a meeting in the Market Square with the late Sammy Thompson, then General Secretary of the Yorkshire NUM. I then took Roger for another meeting on the Sheffield Town Hall steps. He often recalls with me his experiences in the Yorkshire coalfield.

There was another not so pleasant incident that was the most shameful piece of anti-working class action by the then chairman of the Barnsley Trades Council, Jack Brown, aided by the unhelpful role of a NUPE official, Mike Stokes, who was the Trades Union Council secretary. A meeting had been organised by NUPE in conjunction with Barnsley Trades Council. A friend of mine, Ken Capstick, was one of the speakers. I was in the headquarters of the Yorkshire NUM doing some research. Before the meeting began, I went to speak to Ken Capstick on a certain matter. The following day I had a telephone call from Arthur Scargill in London to tell me that the Press were after me for my involvement in organising a meeting on the NHS dispute. He said: “Watch yourself … say nothing. I have confirmed that you were allowed to use an unoccupied NUM room for any research you wish to undertake”.

At the time I was living in an upstairs flat in Cudworth, outside Barnsley. About 4.00 p.m. there was a knock on the door. When I opened it, who should be standing there, but a photographer from the Daily Mail. Jack Brown had informed them of a mysterious Mr Watters working secretly behind the scenes at the headquarters of the Yorkshire miners. Anyone who knows me can imagine the fright that photographer got when he realised both he and his camera were likely to land at the bottom of the stairway! National and local media had a field day, but not for long. Jack Brown, a discredited ex-Labour councillor, later set up his own political party, the Barnsley Party, with Jack and his family constituting the bulk of the membership. At the biggest gathering in its history, the Trades Union Council later censured Jack Brown for using the capitalist Press to make “unfounded and damaging” comments. Mike Stokes, the Secretary was instructed to make a public apology to the NUM (Yorkshire Area), NUPE (Barnsley Hospitals), and to Frank Watters (Morning Star Circulation Manager).

Jack Brown was later removed as chair of the Barnsley TUC and failed again to win a seat on Barnsley Borough Council. What Jack Brown failed to understand was that my life-long commitment has been to serve all sections of the working class in the best way possible. Jack has always moved in mysterious ways, his wonders to perform, and his motivation has often appeared ambiguous.

Chapter 18 “There is only one law in this dispute – don’t cross picket lines!”

No sooner was the strike over than the ‘hindsight’ armchair philosophers were writing their post-mortem analysis of what went wrong. In fact, some couldn’t wait until the strike was concluded before they went into print. Pete Carter, the Industrial Organiser for the CPGB (one of the few Communist Party members allowed to write in Marxism Today, which was supposed to be the ‘Theoretical and discussion journal of the Communist Party’), asked why the miners failed to win the support of the wider public, especially through more solidarity action. Reading Pete’s article, one wonders if his criticisms about the course and conduct of the strike were aimed at the three national leaders, which Mick McGahey called the “troika”, who worked so hard together, or at the National Executive of the NUM. If he did mean the entire team, he would have to include leading members of the CP including George Bolton, the Chairman of the Party. This was more than he dare do, but one can draw one’s own conclusion to whom he is referring.

Then, in the April 1985 issue of the “New Statesman”, Beatrix Campbell saw the twelve months “as a strike that both the hard Right and the hard Left wanted.” Not about jobs or defending communities or public ownership. Then, within two weeks of the end of the strike, “Marxism Today” organised a “roundtable discussion” with Alan Baker, South Wales NUM, George Bolton from Scotland and Ken Capstick, branch delegate from the Selby coalfield, and a member of the Labour Party. It was chaired by Dave Priscott, Yorkshire District Secretary of the Communist Party, who deputised for John Lloyd of the Financial Times, no supporter of the strike and a renowned critic of the leadership, especially the President, Arthur Scargill.

The front page of this issue carried a very impressive picture of a working miner, Derek France, delegate for Silverwood Colliery in Yorkshire. Derek later wrote an article for the Daily Express reflecting on the “roundtable discussion” attacking Scargill. He was soon to be rewarded by British Coal offering him a position on the South Yorkshire Safety Committee as Dust Suppression Officer, so he left the NUM and joined the Coal Board. He was later recognised by the Queen in her New Year’s Honours List, approved by none other than Margaret Thatcher PM. I can’t make up my mind whether Derek got the British Empire Medal for his association with “Marxism Today” or with the “Daily Express.” I will settle for a draw as both were competing in the “Arthur Scargill” race with Derek as a willing participant.

Of course it was not only the CPGB journal Marxism Today that attacked the NUM leadership. Tribune was not helpful. ‘Ultra Left’ weeklies such as Militant attacked the NUM for not holding a ballot which “showed they lacked faith in the working class.” Only the Morning Star, now with a much smaller circulation, maintained a principled editorial policy. But the CPGB no longer encouraged members to buy, and they certainly didn’t sell it at rallies or the picket lines, in spite of an advert in a party broadsheet that said, “Read the Morning Star.” I had a personal parcel of 200 copies from day one and they were much appreciated, either when I distributed them on the picket line or when enjoying an early morning breakfast with the pickets returning and relating their experience.

I want to deal with the main bones of contention over why the NUM didn’t hold a ballot in 1984, alleged violence on the picket lines, timing, mass picketing and the question of whether the Nottinghamshire miners could have been won. But first, I must mention what happened in South Wales in 1981, before Arthur Scargill was elected President of the NUM, and the closure of Kinneil Colliery in Scotland at Christmas 1982. The ballot in South Wales over the closure of Lewis Merthyr pit was also very important, especially in South Wales in 1984 when there was a dirty distorted myth that the Yorkshire Area NUM, under Arthur Scargill’s leadership, didn’t fully support South Wales in their fight against pit closures. Alan Baker from South Wales in the “roundtable discussion” said: “Only 10 out of 28 pits voted in 1984 to come out on strike. The remainder had to be picketed out,” but to their credit they remained solid right to the end.

Early in 1981, Yorkshire, Kent, South Wales, Scotland and the Derbyshire Left met in London to review the pit closure programme that was escalating at a terrific rate, especially in South Wales and Scotland. All Areas were due to meet the NCB Directors, hear the plans for each individual Area and then plan industrial action, irrespective of whether there was a decision for a ballot vote.

South Wales had already called an Area Council and was given a mandate for strike action commencing from Tuesday, February 17. Yorkshire had decided to bring out every single pit on Friday, following the meeting with their Directors on the Wednesday and only three days after the South Wales strike had actually started. It was also the policy of the Yorkshire Left that if any pit decided to take action before the Council Meeting, to demonstrate their support, this would be welcomed. By Friday, when the Council Meeting was called, over 10,000 had already taken action in support of South Wales, and the Yorkshire Area had prepared a strike resolution for the Area Council. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that if South Wales hadn’t suspended strike action pending a meeting with their Area Directors, the entire Yorkshire Coalfield would have been at a standstill in support of South Wales before the Area Council meeting that Friday.

What really took place on Thursday, February 1981 was that Des Dutfield, the Vice President of South Wales, informed Yorkshire that they had decided to suspend their strike action until after the talks on the following Wednesday after which they would reconsider their position. This posed a problem because only South Wales had a strike mandate, and it was they who were calling off their strike action. After consulting colleagues over the need to retain unity within the progressive areas of the Union, particularly Scotland, South Wales, Kent and Derbyshire, who had consistently fought against pit closures, it was decided to fall into line with South Wales and suspend action pending the outcome of the talks on the following Wednesday.

I haven’t the details of what the Board and the South Wales NUM agreed upon, but to everyone’s “surprise” a flash appeared on TV that evening which implied that the miners had won every concession demanded. The closure hit list had been withdrawn. If that announcement hadn’t taken place, the whole Yorkshire Coalfield would have been on strike without a ballot or an Area Council resolution in support of South Wales. I hope this clears up any misunderstanding about Yorkshire’s willingness and readiness under Arthur Scargill’s leadership as President of Yorkshire NUM to give full support to any Area prepared to fight the Government and Coal Board pit closure programme. Already the campaign for National President was under way and maybe, as so often happens, the rank and file members were not always told the whole truth by some who had axes to grind. That may have caused confusion and left some with the impression that Yorkshire didn’t support South Wales in 1981.

In the other incident involving the South Wales and Yorkshire Areas I was fully involved and I may be the only person who can finally kill any myth that Yorkshire was not prepared to support any action undertaken by the South Wales NUM, or any other Area, in the fight to save jobs and their communities. In February 1983 the Board decided to close Lewis Merthyr. This time it was decided to ballot the whole South Wales Area NUM. Before the ballot was completed, none other than Doctor Kim Howells, now a Labour MP, was given the job by the South Wales EC to organise a mass picket into Yorkshire in support of the campaign to save the pit. Remember, the Left in the NUM had worked magnificently for the election of Arthur Scargill as National President. During the 1981 closure threat Yorkshire had done everything asked of them by the South Wales leadership. I just couldn’t understand why this time in the most unprincipled and irresponsible way, the South Wales leadership, without consultation, committed the cardinal sin of sending ten bus loads, over 500 pickets, into a friendly coalfield with a leadership totally committed to supporting any Area that decided to take on the Government and Coal Board against pit closures.

The outcome of this exercise could have been disastrous and Kim Howells, the organiser of this invasion, must be held responsible. All I can say is that Arthur Scargill is not the first flying picket pilot, Kim beat him to it, but he didn’t join his troops, he organised his campaign from Cardiff.

The Yorkshire Region of the Labour Party was meeting in Bridlington that weekend and all Area Officials attended but some came back on the Saturday evening. I got a phone call that Saturday morning from the District Secretary of the Welsh Communist Party requesting that I draw up plans for ten buses of South Wales pickets due to arrive in Barnsley on Monday morning to seek support for the Lewis Merthyr campaign. My immediate reaction was one of outrage. “Who made this stupid decision and who is organising this irresponsible and wasteful exercise?” I demanded to know. The reply was the South Wales EC and Kim Howells had been asked to co-ordinate it. “Who the hell is Kim Howells?” I asked. I had never heard his name before. “Well, he is the research officer for the South Wales NUM” was the reply. Never have I heard of such an important decision decided by an Area EC to be delegated to a member of the staff. Was it that the officials dare not show their face in Yorkshire in case they got invited to explain why an Area like Yorkshire, which had stood by all Areas fighting against pit closures, was not even informed of the decision to send flying pickets? I made my position clear; if any of these buses tried to stop at any pit, even for natural causes, Kim Howells would be held responsible.

The outcome of this conversation was that my feelings would be relayed to Kim but the buses were already booked, the pickets had been paid for an overnight stay, and longer if necessary. Nothing could be done; they were soon to be on their way. I phoned Owen Briscoe that Saturday night and his wife told me she was expecting him back, but normally he dropped into the club, so the best time to catch him was about 11.30 p.m. When I told Owen he went berserk and asked me to see Jack Taylor, the Yorkshire NUM President, to sort things out. The following morning Jack was enjoying his Sunday morning in bed reading the paper. I know he was surprised to see me because I had never been to his house before. When I revealed all that had happened he jumped up and got in touch with Emlyn Williams the President of South Wales. It was far from a comradely conversation. Emlyn confirmed the buses were booked. Some lodges had agreed to supplement the official pickets and he could do nothing about it as Kim Howells had organised the operation. “Who runs South Wales,” Jack asked: “Kim Howells or you as President?”

What was agreed was that they would not go near any of the pits – that I would meet the comrades in charge and explain that the Yorkshire Council was meeting that same day with a resolution for strike action in support of South Wales on the agenda. I told them all the delegates would welcome them and that the officials would invite as many as they decided to address the Area Council.

It was obvious from the majority of these good lads they had been misinformed. I knew one of the lads, Arfon Evans, who was on the EC of the Communist Party with me and he knew that they had made a tragic mistake. This was to be confirmed when a delegation was invited into the Council Meeting and a resolution had already been prepared. Their conduct was magnificent, chatting to the delegates as they arrived and soon the “Big Four” officials appeared on the steps welcoming their fellow miners and pledging full support. A delegation of eight was escorted into the Council Chamber. They reported back that a resolution would be put to the Council calling for a total strike commencing at midnight on Sunday March 6 and that the NEC would be informed of this decision for their consideration. They cheered. They were also given £200 to purchase a good old Barnsley dish, pie and peas, which was organised at two pubs near to each other in the hope it would hold them all together and deter them from picketing the afternoon shift.

But it was becoming obvious that a group, including one of the drivers, was now drinking heavily and in no way did they intend to go home. I must say people like Arfon and Tyrone O’Sullivan, and many others, played a wonderful role trying to get the majority to return home. But one group, from a certain pit, were determined to stay and were rashly promised accommodation at Northern College by someone. The least said about that the better, I had a job to persuade the Students’ Union not to take legal action for the racist, sexist and general behaviour that can only be described as disgraceful and which spoiled the good name of the vast majority of miners who had come to do an honourable job to save their pit.

Then I had another two busloads that was also over the limit. The problem was, would they try to picket the night shift? It was obvious they had no intention of going home. I then had an idea, to get one bus to the Silverwood Welfare and one bus to Wakefield Labour Club and if the worst came to the worst, as I had done at Saltley, I could get volunteers to stay with them all night. There are always plenty of good sofas. The Wakefield operation worked smoothly with accommodation in houses. But in Rotherham this group was determined to picket the night shift, they were real bastards. I was called all the Communist, Stalinist bastards in the book. In fact they were so aggressive some of the locals had to intervene to prevent me from being beaten up. We kept arguing until the night shift had gone down.

The disruptive group, with their drunken driver spent the night in their bus and overslept long enough the next morning to miss any day-shift picket. Jack Taylor phoned me the next morning and requested I come up to see him. The Big Four” were waiting for me. Jack said he was nearly going to phone me the night before because he had a late night call about what had happened to me. “How are you,” they all asked. “I am fine.” Jack said: “You are not fine and in no way are we going to let this die down. You were asked to help out in a difficult situation but we can’t be seen to be involved in entertaining people who hadn’t the decency even to inform us of their visit.”

At that, Owen Briscoe phoned Emlyn Williams and, as one Welshman to another, gave him a piece of his mind in his native tongue. It was eventually agreed that I was to receive an apology and be invited as guest to the South Wales Miners’ Gala that summer, but neither of these materialised. What was pleasant? I think it was when Sammy Thompson handed me £50 and advised me to have a bloody good drink on behalf of the “Big Four” and thanked me for all I had done.

I hope this will kill any myth that Yorkshire was hesitant in giving full support, in fact just as in 1981 it was South Wales who suspended the action. With hindsight, without a more concrete agreement on further pit closures they should have allowed the escalation that had already taken place to continue and their negotiations with the NCB would have been much more successful.

The ballot to save Lewis Merthyr was lost and maybe the Doctor would have been wiser and might have done the Welsh miners a better service if he had put the money and the 500 miners he sent into Yorkshire to tour the valleys to good use in his own area winning support for a “yes” vote. It would have been a tragedy if Kim Howells’ plans hadn’t been stopped. Can you imagine the position of comrades, who were prepared to call the entire coalfield to a halt in support of South Wales, finding themselves faced with a split and confused coalfield because of selective picketing?

Alan Baker in the Marxism Today “roundtable discussion” said: “Now I have been against mass picketing from the word go in this strike because it wasn’t only an industrial battle we were in but a political battle where we should have tried to argue the case for coal against the Government’s strategy.” Was the South Wales decision to have a strike without a ballot in February 1981 not a ‘political decision’? Was the South Wales action over Lewis Merthyr including Kim Howells’ mass picketing of the Yorkshire coalfield, not also a ‘political decision’? What was Alan’s attitude to Kim Howells and the Welsh District CPGB, of which he was a leading member, which was asked to contact Communists in Yorkshire to organise a mass picket. Weren’t all these pit closures politically planned by the Government in preparation for privatisation? No wonder Capstick said of the round table: “I was sick of the lack of politics in this discussion.”

All this of course was before Kim was selected as a parliamentary candidate against the official nomination of the South Wales NUM. But I understand Terry Thomas is not very upset as he is a political adviser for another Union after he also got a good handshake for early retirement. Another two members of the working class emancipated.

It is often argued that, alongside the question of whether or not the NUM should have held a membership strike ballot in 1984, which I will deal with later, the other major issue that is debatable is whether it was better for the year-long strike to end without a negotiated settlement. South Wales actually called for this position, but Arthur Scargill’s view was that this was the very worst thing possible. Even in 1986 McGahey took the view that South Wales was wrong. But the Special Conference that ended the strike took a different view and, like the democrat that he is, Arthur adhered to his union’s policy. Even so, arguably the miners were in a worse position without even the reaching of a valid settlement.

The NUM did try to get an honourable settlement. What were the talks about in June when there was nearly a settlement to withdraw the closure list? The question of exhaustion of reserves or geological conditions making it impossible for a pit to be ‘mineable’ was never a condition laid down by the NUM. The question then was when a pit was regarded as uneconomical. The massive closure programme of 1992-3 went far beyond this; pits no longer had to be just “profitable”, but profitable enough to attract a buyer when the industry would be run down sufficiently to sell it off. What the Union argued, is that what is today classed as uneconomical could tomorrow become economical. This is the story of the closure of Kinneil colliery in Scotland.

Kinneil was the first pit to fall victim to the most callous and ruthless closure programme, announced only twelve days before the 1982 Christmas and New Year holiday. The Coal Board knew the anger and reaction of the workforce would cause a complete walk out and that they would have difficulties getting support from the other Scottish miners as it would mean the loss of their holiday payment. This is traditionally the time of year when all production targets are smashed and as much overtime as possible is worked to help cover the heavy expenses of the holiday. In spite of the ruthless timing a few days before Christmas, the response of the Kinneil men and their families was magnificent. When the news was broken that the pit was to close, all came out on strike when the last shift came up leaving twelve behind to carry on the struggle with an underground sit-in, which lasted until Christmas day.

I know Mick McGahey welcomed this spontaneous action and along with the National President, Arthur Scargill, would have given full support but unfortunately, in spite of the Scottish leadership touring the coalfield holding pit-head meetings, a special delegate conference decided on December 28 1982 to reject the call for strike action to keep the pit open. This was another blow for miners throughout Britain. As Mick was to remark: “We got support from everywhere bar where it counted, from the Scottish miners.” Just like the ballot in South Wales over Lewis Merthyr. There is one action with which I believe Mick McGahey disagreed and that was the sit-in at this pit. He always claimed that there are only two places you organise a sit-in, either in a butcher’s shop or a pub!

The Board claimed the pit was uneconomical. But they never contested the argument that it was being “developed.” That meant it wasn’t producing coal but driving roads into large and profitable reserves. The timing was deliberate, now they could take on South Wales and Kent. In Yorkshire, like Scotland, the NUM Area had prior mandate of a massive vote to take various forms of industrial action including strike action if necessary, to stop the closure of any pit unless on the grounds of exhaustion. The problem that faced many of these miners was the guarantee of a job and £1,500 disturbance payment. In fact, the first Area to get this disturbance allowance was Yorkshire, negotiated by Area President Arthur Scargill, and some of the men had to travel less miles to their new pit with bigger bonuses.

From 1st November, 1983 there had been an overtime ban. The Board deliberately provoked stoppages, especially in the Manvers, Cortonwood complexes. So the mood throughout the Yorkshire coalfield was running high and one could feel sooner or later the crunch would come. Jack Taylor, President of the Area said: “Only Yorkshire has the muscle the leadership the mandate and a rank-and-file with confidence in that leadership to take the Board on.”

So, when the Area officials met the Divisional Board representatives they were told the days of consultation were over. A “take it or leave it” attitude had taken over. The Board was looking for a 4 million-tonnage cut in capacity and 400,000 tonnes of that was to come from Yorkshire in preparation for privatisation of the industry. What had changed was that the Board was no longer in control and policy was being dictated by the Government. A war cabinet was set up to take on the entire workforce and to try to destroy its Union in preparation for the sell-off. Was the Government now ready to implement the Ridley strategy; that plan the Tories had first elaborated before coming to office, to run down state industries, weaken their trade unions and soften them up for privatisation? Negotiated settlement was never in their vocabulary. They were looking for a complete capitulation, a signed document from the NUM that it was prepared to agree to run down their industry to attract buyers for the few remaining “plums.”

Yes, it was right not to sign Thatcher’s term of “full surrender.” But what would have been wrong was to go back to work and leave hundreds of their colleagues outside the pit gates. Those who still question the timing should ask the Kinneil miners and their families. They would confirm what Tyrone O’Sullivan said at the 1992 NUM conference – there is never a right time, and those who talk about not condemning violence on the picket line, only wanted Arthur Scargill to condemn his members and their families who were defending themselves against police violence.

For the 12 months from March 1984 my life was dominated by one event, the miners’ historic and heroic fight for jobs and the preservation of their communities, which depended on a thriving mining industry. Those of us who were fully involved clearly understood from day one what it was all about and were fully committed to this great, struggle, and, I am sure they will agree, it was a wonderful experience which changed thousands of life-styles, and engendered a new political understanding of the role of the state, the police and the judiciary. A so-called public enterprise, British Coal, controlled by the most ruthless Government, a media including TV crews whose only interest was showing scenes of violence mainly provoked by the police were also seen in a new light. All this was intended to isolate the leadership of the NUM. But they failed. After 52 weeks of struggle the overwhelming majority of Britain’s miners were still on strike. But the witch-hunt didn’t end, especially when the “Daily Mirror” and Central TV’s “Cook Report” made false allegations that Heathfield and Scargill used money donated to the strike, for personal gain.

These allegations were found by the Lightman Report to be “entirely untrue.” Now we are told that there is available documentary evidence showing that in 1985 the Soviet Communist Party Central Committee decree, signed by Mikhail Gorbachov, authorised the payment of £1 million to be paid into a trust fund to build up the Miners Trade Union International Trust Fund, money which Scargill and Heathfield were alleged to have received for British striking miners. No wonder Peter Heathfield and Arthur Scargill were so angry at the NUM Annual Conference. The Inland Revenue and the fraud squad have given them and the NUM “A clean bill of health.” But, unfortunately, too many doubted the assurances of these two leaders and failed to stand firm against this vilification and character assassination. The NEC should have insisted on an internal enquiry, instead of engaging a QC to investigate the allegations at a cost to the Union of nearly three quarters of a million pounds, I am sure many more would now have nothing but contempt for his acceptance of “evidence from faceless people,” as Peter Heathfield said.

How often do we now hear it said: “Scargill was right after all”? In 1984 he said there would be at least 70 pit closures and in 1985 that there would be 50 more closures. In 1987 he predicted that by 1992-93 there would be 20 more closures leaving 50 pits open. In 1991 he was saying that by the second half of the nineties, there would be only 30 pits left unless the government and British Coal were stopped. Arthur is not proud of it but his warnings were absolutely spot on. That’s what the 1984-85 strike was about, not wages, not improved conditions. It was about jobs. It will go down in history as a demonstration that, for the first time, a new generation of the overwhelming majority of the miners, showed they had the guts to resist the ruling class and their attacks. Now we are being told British Coal want another £500m from the government to close another 38 pits and cut more than 30,000 jobs because National Power and Power Gen only want British Coal to supply 30 million tons in the last year of a five-year deal, reducing the industry to 12 pits or fewer by mid-1990’s.

Before I deal with questions such as violence, the Nottinghamshire situation and picketing, I think it vital to point out that there are a number of phenomena about this 12 months’ that were different from any other industrial dispute, in particular the way Women Against Pit Closures blossomed in every coalfield with women joining their husbands or boyfriends on the picket lines, speaking for the first time at public rallies and organising the biggest national demonstration of women, in Barnsley, in May 1984. There was never any conflict between the WAPC and the national officials of the NUM and that’s how it should be. The involvement of miners’ wives, mothers and grandmothers no longer imprisoned in their homes, but enjoying the company and social crack in making sure these strong lads and lassies, after being chased and harassed by the police, were well cared for. Men who were not fit to join the picket were scraping potatoes and preparing the vegetables, then washing up, in many cases a novel experience.

Often for the first time couples found they enjoyed an evening stroll around the reservoir and the woods and the young lads who got up at the crack of dawn enjoyed the whistling and the chirping of the birds they used to curse when they had to go down that dirty, smelly hole. They were now greeting each other with “good morning” a rare expression, looking forward to a good game of football or cricket or a free swim in the public baths after picketing. The young girls went about with stickers on their blouses and children went to school with the same, “Coal not dole” was seen everywhere.

Yes, times were hard but they were also happy days. There were print workers with vans loaded with tons of food and other essentials such as toilet requisites. Such supporters always brought up plenty of money to ensure the lads and lasses and any other persons in the club were well catered for. No longer were the clubs paying hundreds of pounds for weekend entertainment that helped many to qualify for industrial deafness. Now during the day the clubs and welfares were food kitchens and in the evening they were available for charity concerts where the entertainment was magnificent. Excuse me if I name only a few: Mike Harding, Billy Bragg, Roy Bailey, The Campbell Folk Group, Sean Cannon from the Dubliners, who entertained many miners in the local Barnsley pub and Ray Hearne who did the same in Rotherham, and at rallies in Sheffield. The Banner Theatre group travelled all the way from Birmingham to perform freely at any request.

There is one wonderful story I must relate. It is about the world famous UB40 group based in Birmingham, which got their name like thousands more signing on the dole, from the civil service numbering of the unemployment benefit card. I know some of the group’s parents and grandparents very well indeed; the father of Ali and Robin Campbell of UB40 is Ian Campbell, of the renowned “Ian Campbell Folk Group”. Their grandparents, Dave and Betty Campbell, were lovely singers, always willing to help any progressive cause. (I have mentioned them in the context of the ‘Star Club’). Ian and his sister Lorna along with Dave Phillips and Nigel Denver maybe did more than any other group to put folk music on the map and certainly identified it with the peace and protest movement.

I had an idea. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to have the three generations of the Campbells performing on behalf of the miners’ cause? I phoned Ian and there were no problems of getting Dad, Mum and Lorna to come. But to get the lads, “UB40”, the problem would be the cost of transporting and hiring the necessary equipment. I asked Ian for some estimate, his reply was: “Over a £1,000.”

No problem, but the last person on earth I could ask for such a sum of money was Owen Briscoe, as he could see the once healthy bank account of the NUM going down and down every day. I discussed it with the Barnsley Strike Co-ordinating Committee, which was responsible for paying out thousands of pounds daily to the pickets. They all thought it would be a wonderful venture. The money was no problem. What we would do would be to ask the lads to forego their daily picket allowance of £1 for a week and we would give two tickets for them to take their partner or girl friend. If we charged £20 for other supporters, we could make a few thousand pounds for the strike fund. Where would we be able to accommodate the thousands who would want to attend? Then there was the question of security, traffic and car parking, normally done by the police. In no way could we even consider getting them involved.

The Dorothy Hyman stadium in Cudworth was ideal being owned by the Barnsley Metropolitan Borough Council. The leader was Ron Rigby, a miners’ delegate, who always responded to any request to help the miners. When he told the Council treasurer to make available so much money for various demands like providing all kitchen utensils for the civic food centre school uniforms and other necessities, the treasurer would say: “We haven’t budgeted for that Mr Leader.” His stock reply was: “Well put it into next year’s budget.” All the local authorities were magnificent. If money alone could have won this strike, they were the first to respond.

I discussed this venture with Ron Rigby and like many more he thought I was mad, but said: “Go ahead, let me know what your plans are including the role of the police.” That was easy, we would get the traffic wardens to plan the operation and there was plenty of car space at the stadium. The Council would hire and build the platform. The strike committee would steward and the sale of TV transmission rights would cover most of the cost. Wonderful but the best laid plans, even occasionally of Frank Watters, “gang agley”. I phoned Ian and the group were prepared to perform, but it all came to nought I couldn’t understand what went wrong until two years later on holiday in Bulgaria I was enjoying a friendly chat with Ian Ferguson, who was a member of the Yorkshire Strike Co-ordinating Committee. He said he had a confession to make for which I would not give him absolution.

“During the strike, I got a phone call requesting to speak to Mr Scargill. When I enquired who was making this request – the answer was the manager of the UB40 Group and I said: ‘Who the hell are you? Mr Scargill is too busy and anyway he is at Sheffield.’ End of telephone conversation.” That evening Ian was relating the day’s events to his family and casually made remarks about this strange request from someone who called themselves “UB40.” When his teenage daughter and son heard this they went berserk. “Dad – were you really talking to UB40? Do you know who they are?” He told them: “How the hell am I to know every crank that phones up to speak to Arthur Scargill?” “Dad, they are the best and most popular group in this country.”

Jackie Campbell, who was a typical unemployed youth wandering about Birmingham in the 70s with an oversize army coat, would sometimes wander into the Star Social Club out of the rough weather. Now manager of UB40, he was the one who phoned Sheffield NUM headquarters where the administrative officer, Roger Windsor, who finished up on the pay-roll of Robert Maxwell, advised UB40 to go into Leicester, a mainly scab area. This event was a flop because, as it was not a commercial event, it lacked the normal ‘hype’ and publicity and, because most of the miners in that area were working, there were not the same possibilities as we had in Barnsley. That’s another good reason why I detest this former NUM employee who took “pieces of silver” from the thief Maxwell who robbed his workers’ pension fund.

This misunderstanding did not deter the Campbell Folk Group who spent a wonderful weekend in Barnsley entertaining and helping to raise cash for the hardship fund. Betty and Dave Campbell joined them, staying with my dearest friends Harry and Enid Hyde, with whom they built a bond of friendship. Unfortunately both Harry and Dave have died, but I understand Betty is still singing and to the credit of their grandsons who play in “UB40”, none of them have forgotten where they came from.

At a funeral recently in Birmingham Jackie Campbell, now much better dressed, confirmed to me this story about getting the brush off. What an opportunity missed! I understand they did a TV programme, but with grandparents Dave and Betty, Ian and Lorna, Dad and Aunt, along with their famous group UB40, raising money for the miners such an event would have made history.

Now about the issues over which the privileged “hindsighters” claim Scargill made so many mistakes. I am for a critical analysis, but I don’t accept that people like George Bolton, who as a member of a “Broad Left” throughout the dispute, and was part of the decision-making process, has the right to say weeks after the strike: “In my view the NUM could have won a national ballot hands down within days of the Special Conference in Sheffield in April: and there is no doubt in my mind at that time a national ballot would have been decisive for the strike.”

If George thought so at that time why didn’t he raise it at the meetings he was attending that were monitoring the dispute? I can’t remember the question of a ballot until well into the strike. In fact Mick McGahey denounced it as “ballocks.” I was and still am of the opinion that any decision to hold a ballot after the strike started would have been seen as abdication and a way out of a difficult situation by inviting a ‘no’ vote. It should be understood that the NUM had gone through a series of ballots. In 1982, there was a ballot on two issues, pit closures and wages, it was rejected by 125,233 (61%) to 81,592 (30%) with only four areas in favour of a national EC recommendation. Nottinghamshire, by the way, voted 23,488 (70%) against, 6,111 (21%) for. I think that was similar to the Area’s vote in March 1984, when the Yorkshire Area agreed to withdraw its pickets during the period when the vote was being taken.

Then in March 1983 there was another ballot, this time with the National Executive Committee’s unanimous recommendation to give it authority to take industrial action to prevent the closure or partial closure of any pit other than on grounds of exhaustion. The vote again was 118,954 (61%) against 76,540 (39%) in favour. Only four areas voted ‘yes’, these included Scotland (50-50 vote) and Yorkshire (54% yes, 46% no). Nottinghamshire was decisively against with a vote of 23,115 (81%) no and 5,556 (19%) yes. Surely the national leadership had to take this into consideration. The question of a ballot at any time was never a major issue in Yorkshire. Jack Taylor, in March 1985, speaking about the media diverting attention from the central issues that led to the strike, said: “Violence was not and never has been the issue, nor was the need for a ballot.” Maybe the reason is the way the strike was handled in Yorkshire from day one. I have no intention of making any lengthy assessment of what took place early in March 1984 when, at an ordinary review meeting, the Board informed the NUM Area that Cortonwood could close on April 6 1984 with no consultation whatsoever. A qualitative change had taken place. Consultation was out. ‘Take it or leave it’ was the order of the day. In fact the colliery review procedure was becoming a farce. In February 1984 the NEC had before it six pits in the review all awaiting the outcome of local discussions. So, to speed up matters, the Board decided to end ‘local discussions’ and take four million tonnage out of capacity making 20,000 redundant immediately.

Why Cortonwood, and not others that were already in the Review Procedure? Maybe they thought, seeing that Cortonwood was the only pit in Yorkshire that hadn’t supported Arthur Scargill for national president, they could be a ‘soft touch’ and if they got away with it in Yorkshire, as they did at Kinneil in Scotland and Lewis Merthyr in South Wales, they would avoid a national strike. They came unstuck. Cortonwood branch committee met the Yorkshire area officials the following day, March 3 1984, and told them they intended to challenge the Board and called for area support based on the 1981 ballot vote of 85.6% to support any branch that was threatened with pit closure on any grounds other than exhaustion. Cortonwood held a mass meeting that weekend and pledged full support. A special Area Council was called for Monday, March 5 and unanimously decided to take strike action from the last shift on Friday, March 9 “to stop the action of the NCB to butcher our pits and jobs.”

This was followed by a weekend of mass meetings where this was endorsed. So there was a ballot in the manner I have always supported, by “show of hands”, not under the distorting influence of the media and those not involved. The “Daily Mirror,” four weeks after the strike started, gave their front page to Neil Kinnock calling for a ballot. If, instead of calling for a ballot, Mr Kinnock had given full support to Britain’s striking miners, 80 per cent of whom by that time were estimated to be on strike, the outcome might have been very different. This, I am sure, could have been decisive for winning the strike and maybe even resulted in an early General Election under more favourable conditions than 1987.

I can honestly say, that with the benefit of hindsight, I think the situation could have been better handled in Notts. By 1984 the Left in the Nottinghamshire coalfield had made some progress. Henry Richardson was elected as an area official following the unfortunate death of Joe Whelan. Earlier, in 1981 Tony Benn actually won the Nottinghamshire nomination for Deputy Leader of the Labour Party against Denis Healey, losing the overall conference vote by only 0.6 per cent. By this time a number of lefts were holding key positions in a number of the large branches. Their presence on the Area Council and Area EC was reflected by progressive resolutions at the Annual Conference. It was my opinion then, and still is, that in areas like Nottinghamshire that weekend of March 10/11 they should have called special branch meetings and argued for strike action to commence on the Monday, March 12. I am not saying you

would have got the same response as we had in Yorkshire, but at least if a majority for strike was carried in a number of pits, those Nottinghamshire miners could have been used to picket others out. After all, only 10 out of 28 pits in South Wales voted to come out on strike, the remainder had to be picketed. But, it was the South Wales miners that were picketing their colleagues.

But neither this, nor the Yorkshire decision to picket Nottinghamshire, were major factors in the area’s rejection of strike action. When Henry Richardson said: “The Yorkshire picket won’t help,” my reaction was: “You will lose the ballot hands down and you and the left on the Area Council will become isolated.” To their credit many, including the two Left area officials, put up a good battle and those on strike for twelve months, along with their families, suffered more than any other section. The other problem that didn’t help to stabilise the Nottinghamshire Area was that in the first few days of the dispute there seemed to be no consistent leadership. I can understand Henry Richardson’s problem, especially with the benefit of hindsight since Lynk, Prendergast and Greatorex later proved where they really stood when they set up the breakaway UDM. Greatorex should never have been elected in the first place; a combination of opportunism and lack of discipline within the left resulting in a split Left vote let him win.

Now, on violence; yes, there was violence and anyone involved at Saltley and Orgreave knows it and I witnessed it on both occasions. I wrote an article for the Morning Star on the 20th Anniversary of Saltley Gate on “The Bloodiest Battle” at Orgreave, which will go down in history as the blackest chapter in any industrial dispute. From day one the police were in high profile. The day the Yorkshire Area was due to be sequestrated, the pickets started to assemble outside the Barnsley offices. In a military style of intimidation, hundreds of police had been sent into Barnsley for a dress rehearsal of how to provoke a peaceful picket to see how their mad dogs would act.

That afternoon we were waiting for information that the Court had decided to send in the Receiver. Suddenly, a policeman grabbed one of the pickets and was about to march him up to the cells in Barnsley – for absolutely nothing. I tell you I have never seen a scrum in any rugby match like what took place. I am not exaggerating. For at least 50 yards this continued with police helmets all over the road. More police arrived with dogs, a reserve team parked near a parapet wall outside the miners’ offices. The lads stood on the wall and if Jack Taylor hadn’t intervened, the van and the police would have landed upside down. The outcome was that during the battle, a group of police managed to get the picket through the ranks and took him to the Barnsley Police headquarters not far from this battlefield. The police by then knew that, in spite of their dogs, they were on to a loser. Anyone who has to handle tons of iron girders is good in any scrum. Result, the lad was set free without any charge – victory number one, but there were not many more.

Within one month over 300 Yorkshire miners had been arrested and by September 1984, nearly 2,000 members faced criminal charges. By the end of the strike it was nearly 4,000 out of nearly 10,000 nationally. Six years later, 39 miners were awarded over £500,000 in an out of Court settlement by the police over false prosecution and imprisonment, and many sacked miners are still victims of those false accusations. The Chief Constable in charge admitted that the “Battle at Orgreave was politically vital for the outcome of this dispute.” I just wish others would have understood the same and maybe we could have been able to record a different story, perhaps more like Saltley’s outcome.

With willing support from the judiciary, which imposed draconian bail conditions on miners throughout the 12 months of the strike, the police pushed back the frontiers of public order policing to the point where civil liberties were infringed. Free movement was denied to miners, who were stopped at roadblocks to prevent them moving from one county to another, although they had been guilty of no crimes. A non-statutory body, the Association of Chief Police Officers, set up an unauthorised de facto national police force, with its own co-ordinating centre staffed by senior officers at New Scotland Yard. From there they wrote their own laws as they went along, to suit their own strategy with scant regard for the constraints of the Police and Criminal Evidence Act.

Under this ad hoc ‘legislation’ miners from Kent were turned back from the Dartford Tunnel under pain of arrest, simply on the grounds that on the whim of an individual police officer they were suspected of heading north to Yorkshire or Nottinghamshire, where they might be expected to engage in picketing, which could just possibly lead to a breach of the peace.

With the miners tied down in this fashion, the police were then free to turn their attention to their main objective of breaking the strike in the Yorkshire stronghold. Thousands of officers were drafted in from forces as far away as London and the Thames Valley to impose a reign of terror in pit villages like Armthorpe, Grimethorpe, Rossington, Goldthorpe and Maltby.

Many of these villages still bear the scars of this oppression and many innocent bystanders were caught up in indiscriminate violent attacks which the police waged on individuals simply because they thought they might be striking miners. One such innocent bystander was eventually awarded £60,000 out of court settlement by the South Yorkshire Police Force in recognition of the fact that he had been reduced to a nervous wreck, his life effectively destroyed, after he was viciously attacked as he stood in his own front garden. Many other cases never came to court and for some it was too late for any sort of justice, however flawed.

One who paid the ultimate price was David Jones, who died on his 25th birthday while picketing at Ollerton Colliery in Nottinghamshire, within days of the beginning of the strike. The cause of his death was never satisfactorily explained. A father of two young children from South Kirkby near Pontefract, David was of only small build, but he was fit. Stopped at a roadblock on the way to picket, he and his mates had covered the last seven miles on foot, travelling cross-country to avoid police patrols. But cars left unattended in isolated places were often vandalised. In some cases it was the police themselves who were not averse to putting their truncheons through pickets’ car windscreens, but when they were not themselves involved they often turned a blind eye. It is believed David had been told that his car was being attacked and he began to run back towards it when he suddenly collapsed. An eyewitness, 23-year-old Errol Palmer from Doncaster, said: “We were walking away from the main gate when he was hit by a brick and collapsed.” Home Office pathologist, Dr Stephen Jones, said that the Yorkshire miner “could have come into contact with a solid object such as a wheel, post or vehicle.” If it was a brick or a piece of timber that delivered the fatal blow it was never explained where any such object had come from or who might have thrown it.

As soon as the news got back to Yorkshire, the NUM Area leaders set off for the pit and by four o’clock in the morning Arthur Scargill was at the scene appealing for calm among the pickets and calling for a two minute silence for David. The police doffed their helmets and stood with the pickets. In the House of Commons, the same day Home Secretary Leon Britton denounced what he called the miners’ “disgraceful and horrifying mob rule.” Shadow Home Secretary, Gerald Kaufman, accused him of deliberately inflaming the dispute prompted by Mrs Thatcher herself.

Three months later, on June 15 1984, the Yorkshire miners lost another stalwart supporter when Joe Green, a 55-year-old miner from Kellingley, died under the wheels of a lorry while picketing at Ferrybridge power station. The picket was actually being supplied that day by miners from Fryston Colliery but Joe, who lived nearby, had, typically, gone down to offer his support. He was trying to speak to the driver of a picket-breaking lorry when he was struck down. Howard Wadsworth, who was Branch Delegate from Kellingley at the time, said: “There is no doubt that when Joe died Arthur Scargill lost one of his most ardent supporters. Joe attended all the local meetings whenever Arthur was speaking and he lived and breathed his campaign.” Joe is remembered at Kellingley by a special brass plaque over the branch banner cabinet.

In these early days of the strike mass picketing was having an effect. In the Midlands, the Coal Board admitted: “In South Derbyshire, Warwickshire and Leicestershire we have 11 pits and nine of them have been brought to a standstill by pickets”, but they refused to say which two were supposed to be working normally. Nationally, all but 26 of the country’s 174 pits were stopped either by strike vote or by picketing.

Then the High Court decided that flying pickets were unlawful. But neither this nor the tragic death of David Jones had any effect on the determination of the Yorkshire miners, whose Area Executive agreed to “continue the normal established trade union practices to win solidarity for our members.” Flying pickets were to continue despite the threat of heavy fines or imprisonment. Dave Douglass, from Doncaster, said: “There is only one law in this dispute – don’t cross picket lines.”

In the first few weeks of the strike, the Nottingham miners demanded their own area strike ballot but until it took place most of their pits were picketed out by Yorkshire miners. Then the Nottingham leader, Ray Chadburn, agreed with the Yorkshire leaders and the National President that all the Nottingham pits would strike for the week of the ballot if the flying pickets were withdrawn.

But once the pickets were withdrawn they were never allowed to return. The right-wingers in Nottingham won their anti-strike vote and the police then played their part escorting working miners to and from the pits and preventing pickets moving into the area. Labour Leader Neil Kinnock echoed Thatcher’s own line that intimidation of those who wanted to work must not be allowed to win. Then the black propaganda machine was put into overdrive to denounce “picket line violence”, although Arthur Scargill himself always appealed to his members to act responsibly and anybody who witnessed the bloody battle of Orgreave could have no doubts about where the violence started.

Personally, I remember after the Grunwick strike in London when Arthur Scargill was acquitted after the Morning Star photographer was able to provide evidence that the police themselves provoked him by pushing him into the street. At Saltley too, I know that police had their own agents provocateurs in the crowd, pushing miners in front of lorries. Whether or not police were involved in the tragic death of David Jones will never be known. All that can be safely said is that in my own experience whenever the police have stepped out of their normal “peace-keeping” role and taken an overtly political stance on behalf of one side or the other violence almost inevitably ensues.

Another criticism levelled at the miners’ leaders was that they did not make sufficient efforts to involve the churches and the wider community in their campaign. Writing in Marxism Today in the month that the strike ended, Pete Carter said: “Support from the bishops and the churches should have been worked for and welcomed, not met with derision as it was in some quarters.” At the same time George Bolton was saying that the churches almost had to force themselves on the scene, with interventions from leaders like the Bishop of Durham. They might just as well have added that the Queen herself was reported to be distressed by the economic and social mayhem, which was rending Britain as a result of this the longest, bitterest national industrial dispute of her reign.

Mrs Thatcher herself flew up to Scotland for an audience with the monarch to put her mind at rest and to tell her why she had instructed the Coal Board to take a tough line on its pit closure programme. Thirsting for revenge for the humiliation of the Tory Party in 1974, Thatcher knew that any just settlement of the dispute would be seen as a victory for Arthur Scargill and that was the one thing she was not prepared to countenance, whatever the cost.

The same weekend as Thatcher’s visit to Scotland, the Coal Board met the NUM leaders for secret talks which led to a formula that might have provided the basis for an honourable settlement. But the Coal Board chairman, Ian MacGregor, was behaving oddly, or perhaps even more oddly than usual. For the first 15 minutes he appeared to be in some kind of trance, never uttering a word. Peter Heathfield remarked later that at one stage he thought to himself: “Either this man is dead or my watch has stopped.” But, as soon as the possibility of a settlement loomed, MacGregor became positively animated. He darted out of the room. Scargill made his own excuses and left the room as well to see what the artful old dodger was up to and came across him breathing heavily down a public telephone in the hotel foyer. He gratuitously volunteered the information that he was telephoning his sister. Scargill’s reply was typically pithy and laconic: “I didn’t know you had a sister in Downing Street.”

Whoever’s sister he was talking to, the telephone conversation marked a watershed in the talks that then went rapidly downhill all the way. Whatever the Coal Board itself wanted, Thatcher was determined there would be no settlement, irrespective of the Queen’s concern for her suffering subjects. With a few honourable exceptions, I saw little sign that the hierarchy of the established church had any real understanding of the politics of the dispute. The Bishop of Sheffield spoke out before and during the strike about the social consequences of pit closures and at many local levels of the churches there was genuine distress at the poverty caused by the dispute. Wherever such concern was in evidence, it did provide a basis for an alliance between the local churches and their own communities.

Many of these local clergy had good solid working class backgrounds themselves and they worked tirelessly throughout the dispute, collecting and distributing food and, in some cases, ministering to their flocks on the picket lines themselves. One who springs to mind is Father Rodney Marshall from Goldthorpe, whom I got to know through his tireless support of the local mining community during the strike and who I am proud to say is still a very good friend. At one stage there were a few of my more cynical friends who, fearing a Pygmalion syndrome, were concerned that my close association with him would result in my returning to the fold and re-embracing the old family faith. In the event it worked the other way! Rodney eventually left his parish in Goldthorpe and is now doing a first class job in Chesterfield helping his erstwhile flock to cope with the traumas of the aftermath of the pit closure programme and the massive local unemployment it brought in its wake. Same customers, same problems, just a different approach to dealing with them.

The end of the strike was heralded with mixed feelings. True, there was no way it could have been regarded as an industrial victory, but the end, twelve months after it began, was a beautiful March morning I shall always remember with pride. The pensioners were up before their wardens’ calls that morning, standing in their doorways to greet this new generation who had stood up to a ruthless government, daily battling with police, facing violence, arrest and imprisonment. Now they were marching back to work as they had come out – together.

I walked a good few miles with the Houghton Main and Dearne Valley branches, setting off from a rallying point at a working men’s club in Darfield. Beside me was a woman I had known since she was a girl. She was the manageress at the pit canteen and she had been out from day one. She was crying when we set off, but the sight of the pensioners in their nightclothes cheering from their doorsteps soon turned her tears of bitterness to tears of pride. “I don’t know if I shall be manageress for very much longer,” she said, “but I don’t care. I would do it all again.”

Management at some pits wasted no time in asserting themselves, refusing to allow the day shift down the pit because they were late. It was a beautiful day and these lads were savouring the memories of the previous year of fresh air with the summer sun on their backs, many of them for the first time since they had left school. They were in no mood to accept petty management diktats so they turned round and walked straight back out again.

Some, indeed, stayed out even longer in support of sacked colleagues. Some of those sacked miners are still outside the gates, victimised by vindictive managements. Thousands more have since been made redundant as the pit closure programme accelerated after the strike. David Jones and Joe Green did not even get that option.

An eyewitness in Armthorpe:

My old friend from the 1950s, Eric Browne, retired Armthorpe miner and former pit delegate, still active in the trade union movement (Eric has since died), has been good enough to contribute his own recollections of Armthorpe life during the strike., which follows:

“They’re `ere” By Eric Browne:

“Rumours about scabs going in at Markham had been confirmed for the branch by a mole we had in the management team. Management’s removal of the pit gates was another pointer, though it provided a source of great amusement for the pickets at the time.

“An under-manager who was renowned among the men for being a complete idiot arrived at the gates with a van full of oxyacetylene equipment and proceeded to burn through the hinges. When he had done and the gates were laid on the ground somebody unkindly pointed out to him that a hammer and a cold chisel would have been sufficient to knock the heads off the pins and the hinges would have been there for future use. Not that they ever used the hinges again at Armthorpe. Some of the lads say that the gates across the entrance to Downing Street are our old pit gates because they were never seen on our premises again!

One evening the police attempted to remove the permanent picket by force but we rushed reinforcements in and, outnumbered, the police withdrew. The following morning we wanted a mass picket from 4 am and, with no police in sight, the surface men entered the yard, started up the mobile crane and moved concrete bollards from the car park and strung them across the pit entrance. The crane was then immobilised. By chance a gang of council ‘workmen were repairing the village main street and we persuaded them to park their vehicles in the pit entrance. Road roller, macadam spreader, tractor, trailer the pit entrance was rammed.

At the beginning of the strike the manager had said that no picket would keep him out of his pit but when, at 9 am, he arrived leading the management team convoy of cars they took one look and shot off towards Doncaster. We had men in cars posted at every entrance to the village and at about 11.30 we had a report that police were massing at the water tower. When, to shouts of “They’re ‘Ere”, they entered the village over the railway ridge in a convoy three abreast, about 100 vans, and drove straight up to the pit entrance. As soon as they stopped, the sun was blotted out by a huge barrage of bricks, boulders, fencing, nothing that was not nailed down rained down on the vans.

The doors opened and the cops spewed out in all sorts of gear and carrying baseball Its. They formed up and charged the lads who scattered through the streets of the village. People who had not been involved were now at their garden gates, brought out by the uproar, and a lot of them were telling the pickets to run into their houses to escape the police who were by then on a rampage and completely out of control. Where they saw lads going into houses they charged up the paths and into the houses, knocking people out of their road and shouting down any protests from the owners. A lot of people were injured. One widow, lrene Kennedy, who had three sons on the picket line, was standing behind the kitchen door when police kicked it in, trapping her against the wall. When the lads in the house tried to help her they were told: “Leave the old cow alone and let her die.” Mrs Kennedy was in hospital for thee days with concussion and a suspected fractured skull. It was only after the strike was over that she received compensation and a letter of apology.

The pickets scattered all over the village, some of them running into Shaw Wood only to be chased out again by mounted police. By then the village was occupied by the police, their vans covering the road between the railway bridge and the pub, a distance of about 600 yards. They allowed no one in or out of the village and spent until late afternoon searching for pickets.

From that day until the end of the strike police were in permanent occupation of the pt and the village and their vans patrolled round the clock. At night they carried torchlights, which they shone into the bedroom windows and anyone found on the street who was unable to give a satisfactory answer to their questions was hauled off to the pit holding room until someone could be found to vouch for them.

They did not have it all their own way, though. A lot of vans were ambushed and there was always a safe house nearby for the lads to slip into and none were ever arrested. During the occupation no shop, pub or club would serve a copper. They all said the same thing: “We will still have to live here when you lot have gone.”

Once they even tried to stop a funeral because it had been arranged for the same time the scab bus was due to leave the pit. We warned the officer in charge that if we spread the word there would be trouble from the whole village and, sensibly, he delayed the departure of the scab bus.

All their efforts were designed to force scabs into the pit. Armthorpe was known as a union stronghold and their idea was that if the men went in there the strike would be lost. The day the police arrived in force one scab went in at about 4 pm and stayed for half an hour. By the end of the twelve months 22 scabs were going in; two coal face workers, one development worker, two fitters, two electricians, one materials man, six office staff and an ambulance room attendant. The rest were area salvage and development men, none of whom worked at Markham.

On the day the strike started a miner was transferred from Brodsworth. He was known by the nickname of Chicken George and because he thought nobody knew him he decided to scab. Of course we got to know and we phoned him and told him we were aware of what he was up to. He squirmed about, making all sorts of excuses and finally came up with the bright idea that we should let him go in so that he could keep us informed of what was going on in the pit. We reminded him we had our sources of information. How did he think we had got to know about him? He started shouting and calling the union all the usual crap, so we left him to it. Then one morning about a week later the manager sent for the Branch Secretary to tell him he had sacked one of our members for stealing. To our delight it was Chicken George. ‘We did think of sending off to the Guinness Book of Records to see if it was the only recorded case of a man getting the sack from a pit at which he had never worked. “

I am grateful to Eric for this first hand account but he has not told one of the funniest events of the Armthorpe occupation. Once a year, on her birthday, Eric’s wife, Dot, had the title ‘Lady Dorothy of Armthorpe’ bestowed upon her by family and friends. When this annual occasion came around during the siege of her manor she decided she could not let it pass unmarked so she went to inspect her “troops” on parade at the pit. Armed with a bag of five pence pieces from the club, she introduced herself to the inspector in charge. He was somewhat bemused but, sensing that this “Lady” enjoyed the respect and affection of the pickets, he decided that discretion was the better part of valour and, to avoid any aggravation before the arrival of the scab transport which was imminent, he left her alone.

Dot marched up and down the ranks of sullen looking “Guards”, pressing the “Queen’s shilling” on each of them in turn. Within earshot of the inspector she remarked to the pickets: “These are a funny lot. Some of them are not much taller than me and I am only four foot five! Some of them have no numbers on their uniforms so I can’t make any recommendations about their scruffy boots and clothes but some of them look as if they are more used to survival training in the hills and these short back and sides are a disgrace.”

It took “Lady Dorothy” some time to carry out her inspection and the inspector was obliged to delay the arrival of the scabs who were eventually sped through the lines in a police van.

Chapter 19 The Euros’ Role from 1984

It is now nearly nine years since the Miners’ Strike. I have no

intention of trying to write the definitive story as I haven’t access

to the necessary vital documents. Perhaps Democratic Left, the

successor (of a kind!) to the CPGB will one day reveal, in the spirit

of assessing its history, with more clarity what really happened at

the EC meeting the weekend before the strike began. (After Frank wrote these words, a much-reduced Democratic Left was also dissolved after only a few years, morphing into a `politics network’. The resources of the CPGB, worth some £4.5 million were liquidated and taken into ephemeral `new politics’ think tanks.)

By this time the Marxism Today stable was well in control. The Editor of this

theoretical journal, Martin Jacques, had imposed a ban on `leading’

Communists being allowed to express the views of the Party, so we

can’t find many answers there. Pete Carter was Industrial Organiser:

Tony McNally, Midlands District Secretary. In Yorkshire Bill Innes was

virtually in charge, waiting for Dave Priscott to retire; Nina Temple

was being paraded as Gordon McLennan’s successor as General Secretary;

all of them associated with the theory that “The Forward March of

Labour had been halted,” or if not halted, the advance certainly

checked. How was it possible for the Party to play a leading role

in such a struggle with the Euro-Communists in control and caught on

this wrong theoretical foot?

My first experience of where it became evident that the CPGB was not fully

committed to the miners was at the Yorkshire District Committee

meeting in March 1984 when Bill Innes, from the Marxism Today

stable, made it clear that in his opinion it was the wrong time and

the wrong issue. A member of the EC, Janie Glenn from Hull, in her

contribution spoke about “male violence”. I wish she had joined the

miners’ wives on the picket lines. She would have discovered that the

police were not concerned with gender. Greg Douglas, a full-time

official in the Construction Section of the AUEW claims he could see

my hair rising like a peacock’s tail. He passed a note to me, which

said: “What do you think of that for a politician?” I replied: “You

have left out the words ‘so-called’ politician.” Beatrix Campbell writing

in the New Statesman in March 1985, the month the strike finished,

said: “This is the strike that both the hard right and the hard left

wanted.” Yet, Jack Taylor, President of the Yorkshire NUM, in his

Annual Report in March 1985 on behalf of all area officials said:

“This Union did not want to take strike action. It would, however,

have been a complete abrogation of responsibility had we not taken up

the gauntlet thrown down by the Board.” This is where the strike

originated from and not from the National Union Office.

Another incident convinced me that the CPGB was not fully in

support of the strike. No effort was made in Yorkshire to involve

other industrial comrades. Roy Rix, the full-time organiser for South

Yorkshire, who lived in Barnsley, was never seen on a picket line in

that area. In fact, when we were getting battered from pillar to post

and from tree to tree at Orgreave, he was sitting in his office

listening to an up-to-date report on the radio. The late Percy Riley,

whose untimely death was hastened by long hours collecting on the

streets for the miners’ relief fund in Sheffield in every kind of

weather, wrote to the Yorkshire District CPGB complaining about a

scurrilous attack on Arthur Scargill at the South Yorkshire Area

Committee in July 1984, which claimed that Arthur Scargill was the

main obstacle to getting the Yorkshire miners back to work. Guilty on

all counts! But where did this idea come from?

It certainly wasn’t any original thought from Roy Rix, but that same weekend Pete Carter was in Sheffield and Dr Kim Howells was in Durham advocating the same

line. This was only weeks before the TUC was due to meet, with five

resolutions in support of the miners on the agenda. In his letter Percy said: “It is

my opinion that the Area Secretary is out of touch with the situation

in the coalfield”. He was never in touch because he, like the other

Euro-Communists, was opposed to the strike. They used Scargill as their

whipping boy although the policy and decisions were made by the Troika

, which included Mick McGahey. In such circumstances one would have

thought that the District Secretary, Dave Priscott, a member of the

EC of the CPGB, would have acted to set the record straight if these

attacks were not Party policy.

Then we had the run-up to the TUC. Pete Carter had gone away for a

long holiday, so little or nothing was being done to get together the

comrades attending Congress. The five resolutions were by this time

all outdated. What was needed was a statement from the General Council

pledging full support for the miners. In such circumstances one would

have expected a get-together of the lefts, including the three NUM

leaders, with the industrial department taking the initiative. This

was not done. In fact the strike was into its ninth month before Mick McGahey

was able to get Gordon McLennan and Pete Carter to meet Scargill and

Heathfield!

Following the dispute, Marxism Today organised a round-table

discussion on The Miners’ Strike. Ken Capstick from Yorkshire was

invited and just couldn’t believe how much out of touch the

representatives of the CPGB were, including the Chairman, Dave Priscott.

If Ken had known what it was all about he would never have

participated. The main purpose was to prepare for an NUM “Palace

Revolt”, whereby Scargill would be de-throned. It being claimed that

things were alright in Scotland and Wales, but that nationally they

needed an alternative “left” excluding Scargill and Heathfield. I am

sure they hoped to catch the big fish, Yorkshire, when Pete Carter had

a long discussion with Jack Taylor, President of the Yorkshire NUM. I

would love to have been a fly on the wall.

Charles Leadbeater of the

Financial Times, and also a member of Marxism Today Editorial Board,

wrote: “The first move to establish an alternative strategy was

launched by Pete Carter, the Communist Party’s Industrial Organiser.

This will reflect views of the Scottish and South Wales NUM. They

could provide the basis for left, centralist and right wing executive

members uniting around a common strategy.” This would have resulted

in pit level negotiations, which would have taken the industry back to

the 30s.

Under their plan the National Union would primarily service

the areas with research. The UDM members would be readmitted into the

NUM, guaranteeing an effective challenge to the left-wing leaders who

would be compelled to stand for re-election. Guess who was first on

Pete’s list? This was the stuff that Carter tried to peddle at a

Special Party Congress that took place in May 1985, where the main item

was his assessment of the strike. But it never saw the light of day, perhaps another reason for the need for full honesty about the CPGB’s recent history.

So we had a situation where the Industrial Organiser in charge of

giving advice was rejected by those receiving the guidance. No wonder

there was confusion and embarrassment when loyal Communists, who had

worked so hard to defend the Party’s policies, were faced with the

stark reality that the Party’s role nationally had been nothing less

than diabolical. This of course was not true about most rank-and-file

members. In fact I had been so proud when many of our miners returning

from London had high praise for so many Communists, especially for the

help they had received when visiting the Morning Star building.

The left split widened after the strike and, as Peter Heathfield

in his final speech at the 1992 NUM Conference said: “I can understand

the attacks from our class enemies, but when members of the CP join

in, it hurts. This was a Party whose analytical powers and strategic

vision were unique. Always they could be relied upon to heal the

divisions within the left and they were highly respected for their

organisational capacity, but the division within our ranks to which

Arthur and I have been subject is an act of humiliation for which the

CPGB hold a major responsibility.” Nowhere is that more true than on

the run up to the election of the National Vice President, when Mick

McGahey was due to retire in 1987.

What is interesting about the run-up to the selection of a left

candidate to replace Mick McGahey was the role of Neil Kinnock and

Eric Clarke, who was Secretary of the Broad Left in the NUM. Alongside the “centrists”, and “right-wing” on the NUM NEC,

the Party had another ally, none other than the Labour leader, Neil

Kinnock. After the Durham Miners’ Gala in 1986 in a report headed:

“Labour Unity attack paves way for NUM Palace Revolution”, The

Observer of 13 July 1986 said: “Kinnock backs left move to strip

Scargill of power.” The opening shot for the palace revolution was the campaign for

the election of Eric Clarke, Scottish NUM Secretary, to take over from

Mick McGahey as National Vice President. Scargill would be a prisoner

and Eric’s victory would be seen as an “Anti-Scargill vote”.

John Walsh, by then on the NEC of the NUM, was only 47 years old.

The fact that he polled 70,571 against Peter Heathfield’s 74,186 in

the election for General Secretary of the NUM made him a strong

challenger. But, Johnny knew there were two candidates in Yorkshire

eligible to stand, Jack Taylor, President, and Sammy Thompson, General

Secretary of the Yorkshire Area NUM. If either of these two stood,

Johnny would not be able to repeat his impressive performance against

Peter as he wouldn’t win the Yorkshire vote. Johnny by this time was

also part of the inner circle of the anti-Scargill brigade.

The Scottish District of the CPGB had met and decided that George

Bolton should replace Mick McGahey. After all, since the NUM was

formed in 1948, there had always been a member of the Communist Party

as one of the top three officials – and before it a similar prominence

existed in the pre-war Miners Federation of Great Britain. This of

course created problems. How could right-wing members of the NEC like

Trevor Bell of the white-collar section, win support for George

Bolton, who was now Chairman of the CPGB? This is where Neil Kinnock

stepped in to get “unity” around a left candidate, “to pave the way

for the palace revolution”, planned that weekend in Durham over an

early morning cup of tea shared by representatives of the some of the “left”

within the Broad Left of the NUM.

The Communist Party had to do a turn-around, forgo any chance of a

position within the NUM’s national triumvirate. On the weekend of

20/21 September 1986 the CPGB organised a weekend school with Hywel Francis as tutor. But no Party miner in Yorkshire was informed and,

because of very poor attendance, instead of Hywel Francis’ paper being

discussed, they decided to change course and consider the

Vice-Presidential election and, in the light of Kinnock’s

intervention, backed Eric Clarke. This was the beginning of a real split in the “left” in the NUM.

Following that weekend school, the CPGB leadership took over the driving seat in Eric’s campaign. Soon the Press went to

town: “NUM election set to register opinion on Scargill”, read one headline; “Unity candidate to topple Scargill”, said another. One would have thought it was Clarke versus Scargill rather than Clarke versus Thompson. What must be

remembered is that Eric, who was Secretary of the Broad Left, promised

his colleagues that he would call a meeting to decide on how to retain

the Troika for the left. Finally, a meeting took place early in 1987

in Sheffield, which supported Sammy’s candidature, a decision not

accepted by the CPGB leadership as they wanted an anti-Scargill candidate.

The election took place with four candidates. Sammy polled 34,796

to Eric’s 25,956. Big disappointment for the Glasgow Herald, which had

forecast a victory for Clarke. But, most important, the decision to

set up the so-called “alternative left,” embracing “centrist and

right-wing executive members” resulted in the genuine left and many

rank-and-filers blaming the Party for creating disunity in the NUM at

a crucial time by its decision to campaign openly against Sammy

Thompson.

What happened next, after Sammy died, was even worse and led to

further isolation of the Party and the so-called “left” dragging

Scotland and South Wales into alliance with traditional right-wing

areas like Leicester, North Wales, Power Group and COSA, who then

began to work more openly together.

Shortly after the TUC in September 1988, the Yorkshire Post

carried a story: “Candidates prepare for NUM job battle.” Eric Clarke

from Scotland was again the “Unity” candidate. There were strong

divisions among the “57 varieties”. Quite correctly, Trevor Bell

argued strongly for Johnny Walsh as the best nationally known and

tested anti-Scargill candidate. But again Scotland and South Wales had

problems. Not in supporting Johnny and accepting Trevor Bell’s

argument, but how were they to sell Johnny when they had campaigned

against him for both President and General Secretary of the NUM? So

they settled for Eric.

This new alliance was embraced by the Jim Conway Foundation, which

claims an interest in providing educational activities for the whole

movement. The Foundation also found itself involved in the internal

politics of the Soviet Trade Unions. The AEU sponsored one of the Vorkuta miners on a visit to Britain. Oddly, Terry Fields MP and Militant were originally in support, but even more revealingly, Searchlight, the anti-fascist research journal,

has exposed the links with the so-called ”Popular Labour Alliance”,

the NTS organisation. So named from its Russian initials, this

fervently anti-communist, subversive group has been operative in the

Soviet Union from the war years. Searchlight reported in June 1982,

that NTS “openly collaborated with Hitler’s invading armies. After the

war NTS quickly became little more than a covert CIA operation.”

George Miller of NTS regularly met émigrés from East Europe at

airports in the West, seemingly being extraordinarily well informed

about such things! As for the Vorkuta miners, Miller quickly put them

in touch with the “right” people – in particular Roy Lynk, leader of

the UDM. Miller offered the prospect of introducing Viktor Yakolev,

the delegate from Vorkuta on the tour of Britain, to the Jim Conway

Foundation and to big business with the view of obtaining £100,000 in funding.

Sadly, a number of left Labour MPs and others were originally

conned into being supportive of Yakolev, but he who pays the piper

calls the tune!! As much of this became clear the Vorkuta delegation

refused to meet the NUM, also being widely quoted in the British media

as endorsing privatisation and a return to the capitalist road. Many

rightly deserted this odd alliance.

To put the final nail in the coffin of this intrigue, Bill

Ronksley, Secretary of the Sheffield Trades Council, when meeting with

V Zharikov, the Head of the International Department of the Soviet

TUC in June 1990, was able clearly to establish that the body

represented by Yakolev was not a genuine trade union as such. Zharikov

in that interview also rightly predicted that the established trade

union movement would rapidly change from its historic role of being

almost an organ of the state in the world of production into something

more akin to our own experience.

Since the disastrous Russian coup attempt of August 1991, an

entirely new situation has emerged. It is now clear that the

established unions are the main defence force of the working class and

the realignment of the left, taking place upon the effective

dissolution of the CPSU is now providing new opportunities for

advance. Nevertheless, this experience of the NTS, the JCF and

probable CIA interference in the affairs of the Labour Movement in the

former Soviet Union has important lessons for us. The enemies of

progressive change are no less active in Britain than they are

elsewhere.

I am sure people like Arthur Horner, Will Paynter, Abe Moffatt,

Jock Kane, Sammy Taylor, Joe Whelan and especially, Tommy Degnan,

would be turning in their graves if they knew how the movement had

been manipulated and subverted.

Chapter 20 “Frank, Finish” – the CPGB disciplines me

Alongside the miners’ strike there was another major issue which

concerned me during 1984 and 1985 and that was the split between the

Morning Star and the CPGB. Both were facing a crisis. The Party was losing membership and the

paper was losing readers. The Party had split into two main factions,

one supporting the Morning Star and its policy of reflecting the aims

of the British Road to Socialism which had been agreed at the 1977

Congress, and the other grouped around Marxism Today which was

increasingly demonstrating its own revisionist tendencies; although they were generally called “Euro-Communists”, or “Euros” for short, there was increasingly little Communism in their thinking.

Reuben Falber, at one time Communist Party National Organiser, had previously

complained about leading Communists being banned by the editor of

Marxism Today from writing in the magazine. The editor had also

admitted that he had been unable to support Congress policies since

the early 1980s and that he had never accepted the redraft of the

British Road.

One would have thought the miners’ strike would have provided the

motivation for both sides to bury their differences in order to unite

all those who were calling for an end to Thatcherism. I am not

suggesting that those differences should have been swept under the

carpet but they could have been minimised and fought out within the

Party. After all, we would have had plenty of time to sort things out

after the strike, but the miners could not delay their strike, as it

was not of their making. Instead of a campaign to support the miners

with both factions uniting around the common cause of the defeat of

Thatcherism we had open warfare in the Party around the role of the

Morning Star, with calls for the sacking of the paper’s editor and

deputy editor.

Outside the Party everybody agreed that the paper was doing a

magnificent job for the miners, covering meetings and rallies, and it

won praise from the miners’ leaders themselves. Some leading comrades who might have played a more conciliatory

role, instead joined in the witch-hunt which led to the expulsion of

lifelong members just because they refused to accept the dictatorship

of an Executive Committee dominated by Euros who, having removed the

Morning Star Editor and deputy editor from the Executive, were then

seeking their dismissal, so they could be replaced by their own

nominees.

With Editor Tony Chater and deputy editor Dave Whitfield removed

from the Executive, the Party then failed to provide the means by

which it could have been ensured that Party policy was properly

reflected in the paper. Whenever Party rules conflicted with the

Euros’ aims the rules were simply ignored.

Nobody can wage internecine warfare like the Euros could and

heaven help anybody caught in the crossfire. I innocently strayed into

this battlefield because of my support for the Morning Star and I soon

found myself joining the hundreds who were removed from office or

finally expelled. It soon became obvious that this group were never

concerned with saving the Party or the paper or in supporting the

miners. Given hindsight, I hope that those who claim they were aware

of the two camps will join in the demands for the publication of the

minutes of the leadership meetings.

We could have been fighting on two fronts, giving priority to the

miners’ struggle. The Party had been in a similar position in 1939

when fascism was sweeping across Europe. Some comrades thought then

that it provided an ideal opportunity to settle their differences with

should be invited to the Political Committee when the Executive was discussing

matters that they wanted reflected in the Morning Star editorial.

There should also be regular meetings between the paper’s editor and

the Party General Secretary. The Executive, under the Euros’ control,

rejected this formula and the Party and the paper were set for a long

confrontation which neither could afford and which neither side could

win. It is important here to appreciate that the Morning Star was not

(and is not!) the property of any party, but owned by a self-governing

co-operative, based upon equal voting rights of voluntary share

holders. Whilst owing editorial allegiance to Communist politics the

paper was always designed to be a focus for the left, in particular

the left in the trade union movement.

A special management meeting in May called for the Party to

declare a truce and seek ways of resolving the dispute but the Euros

refused to compromise on their demands for the sacking of Chater and

Whitfield. The media had a field day with reports of regional meetings

of the paper’s shareholders where leading Party members were shouting

at each other. Chater, it was reported, was booed and shouted down

when he tried to speak. At the Manchester meeting challenges to the

chair lasted an hour and in Glasgow the meeting was abandoned in

uproar and one young shareholder was assaulted as he left. Then came

the big showdown at the Wembley Conference Centre. It was estimated

that these meetings had cost the Paper £10,000 but the worst thing was

that there were miners’ leaders in Scotland involved in the factional

infighting and, in London, Labour supporters and good friends of the

paper like Ken Cameron and TGWU general council members were being

described by EC supporters as stooges.

To crown it all, by the end of 1984 over 100 loyal Party members

had been caught up in the crossfire and had been expelled. In the

North East District, election of officers was banned because the

national executive of the Party did not like the composition of the

District Committee. Then, in London, a District Secretary was imposed

against the wishes of the District Committee and, on the eve of the

London District Congress, a special Executive meeting was held where

General Secretary Gordon McLennan spelt out a number of conditions

that would have to be observed if the Congress was to go ahead.

When Congress assembled it went into secret session and the

General Secretary informed delegates of the special Executive’s

decision. I understand he also ruled on what questions would be

allowed. The atmosphere was hostile and delegates were being treated

with contempt and next business was moved. The chair pointed out that if next business was carried the

Congress would continue according to the Executive’s instructions but

if it was lost the secret session would continue to allow for more

questions. Tellers were appointed and then the General Secretary left

the meeting, taking a large number of delegates with him, including

some who were known to be members of a “fundamentalist” group. This

time, though, they obeyed instructions and joined Gordon’s army. Those

who did not were later disciplined or expelled.

During the miners’ strike there was an unfortunate incident that

split the Party in Barnsley. A number of branch members were involved

in one way or another with the miners’ strike. Roy Rix played a

disruptive role, aided and abetted by Bill Innes and Jean Miller.

The NUM Vice President, Mick McGahey, was allocated to speak in

Yorkshire but the branch was never consulted and the first we heard of

it was at the miners’ gala in Wakefield. A meeting had been arranged

in a workingmen’s club in South Kirkby and Frank Clarke, a member of

the Yorkshire NUM Executive, was to be an additional speaker. I asked

Frank if his appearance on the platform had been cleared by the

Yorkshire Area of the NUM and he said he assumed it had been since

Jack Taylor had agreed to speak as well. In fact, he added, that was

the only way he had been able to book the club as it was impossible

for the Party to book clubs for public meetings. Owen Briscoe saw the

leaflet and called Frank in and reminded him that Area officials and

EC members were not allowed to appear on public platforms without the

approval of the strike campaign committee. This was because some ultra

left groups had had a habit of advertising public meetings with

Yorkshire Area speakers without any approval from anybody. Normally

all that was needed was a letter from the Party to the Yorkshire Area

and approval would be given but, following the People’s March debacle,

relationships between Barnsley Party officials and the Yorkshire Area

NUM were still strained. Certainly Roy Rix did not dare write to the

Area seeking any favours.

The outcome was that Frank was told he couldn’t speak unless the

Party made a request. The club cancelled the booking and when I heard

about it I paid Frank Clarke a visit. He realised he had been conned

but he was more upset about Bill Innes’ attitude to the club

secretary. Innes had demanded compensation from the club for money the

Party had spent on publicising the meeting.

I visited the Empire Club at South Kirkby and spoke to members of

the committee whom I knew very well. They eventually agreed to the use

of their hall, but we now had the problem of the Vice President of the

NUM speaking in Yorkshire without any Area representatives on the

platform. I have recorded this incident mainly to clear the name of

Frank Clarke, who was later accused by some people of refusing to

share a platform with Communists, and to rebut the slander on the

Yorkshire Area of the NUM which has been falsely described as refusing

to share a platform with Mick McGahey, because it was organised by the

Communist Party.

When I raised the matter in the Party branch I was told it had

nothing to do with Barnsley as South Kirkby was in the Pontefract

postal area. What they failed to realise was that South Kirkby pit

came under the Barnsley area and I was a regular visitor to the Empire

Club, as Frank was a personal friend of mine, and I lived only three

miles away from it. I knew that the reason I had not been consulted

was that I was one of the Party’s untouchables because of my

association with the Morning Star. I was being ostracised at all

levels within the Party and when I asked why I was told it was because

I was “too close to Scargill”. Impossible, I know I was born on

Christmas day and should be able to walk on water, but to be too close

to Scargill is much more credit than I deserve.

Of course the real problem was that the Party had spent so much

time and energy fighting within its own ranks it had lost sight of the

wider struggle. My experience throughout the miners’ strike was one of

sectarianism within the Party and isolation of the Party from this

important struggle.

At the risk of causing embarrassment to some individuals, I must

recount another incident that helps to demonstrate how this

factionalism was leading inevitably to the demise of the Party. Following a Party branch meeting in Barnsley, Trevor Fox, the

branch secretary, was involved in a heavy session of home-brewed beer

drinking. As the level of the conversation began to deteriorate in

direct proportion to the amount of beer consumed, comrades began to

drift away. I was not present at all as I had an engagement in London.

The upshot of it all was that one of the women comrades who was

very active in the Women Against Pit Closures organisation was

violently assaulted because she declined to take part in an

over-indulgent debate about the role of women in the strike. The police were involved, only to the extent of helping the woman

comrade to get a taxi to the home of another old comrade, the branch

chairman, Hylton Stewart. He advised her to go and see Jean Miller.

The next morning I saw Hylton in town and he told me what had

happened. He said that the woman concerned, Joan Davis, wanted to see

me and I eventually caught up with her where she was working at

Barnsley Enterprise Centre. When I saw her face bearing the scars of

the assault on her eyes and nose I could have cried. Her assailant,

Trevor Fox, had a record of violence against women and I told her what

I thought of him. My immediate concern, though, was that she should

have a safe home for herself and her daughter as her own home was

owned by her attacker. I was confident the council would be able to

find her somewhere suitable, but in the meantime she and her daughter

had to stay with Jean Miller.

The other problem was that branch meetings were normally held at

Trevor Fox’s home and this clearly could not go on. I was not too

worried about that, though. I knew plenty of Barnsley publicans who

would provide a room in return for a bit of extra trade.

I suggested to Hylton that he should inform the District Committee

about what had happened. The annual congress of the TUC was imminent,

so I also suggested that, as I was involved in it and as the miners’

strike was likely to dominate the congress, I would book a room for

the September branch meeting and make the TUC report the main item on

the agenda. Unfortunately Hylton was away on holiday when the

September branch meeting was held and Jean Miller was proposed to take

the chair. Before the agenda was agreed Roy Rix raised the question of

why the venue for the meeting had been changed and who had authorised

it.

I would have thought the answer was obvious as Joan Davis had made

it clear she would never enter Trevor Fox’s house again. Rix moved

that all meetings should continue to be held in Fox’s house until

after the end of the strike. I pleaded with him that it was a very

sensitive issue and that the party could not be seen to be meeting in

the house where the assault had taken place, especially as the police

and neighbours all knew what had happened. I suggested that we should

wait for guidance from the District Committee. This was rejected and I

refused to be associated with any vote to return to Fox’s house. I

walked out of the meeting and never attended another one with the

exception of a special meeting called to discuss the matter, at which

Vicky Seddons and Dave Priscott tried to gloss over it by describing

it as a “domestic incident”.

Eventually, Joan decided to return to the house but within a few

months she was a victim again. In such circumstances and in the face

of such overwhelming evidence one would have thought that the culprit

would at very least be removed from branch office, but Fox remained

branch secretary. With no satisfaction from the District Committee, the matter was

referred to the national Executive but it took them two years to

decide to uphold the District Committee ruling that no action should

be taken because of a “conflict of evidence”.

It was hardly surprising that the evidence conflicted. The only

two witnesses called were the victim and her assailant and at the time

the victim was dependant upon her attacker for somewhere to live.

Though that is no longer the case it seems the Party preferred to turn

a blind eye, because it suited one faction not to upset the Yorkshire

District Committee because their support was needed by the Euros in

their vindictive campaign against all those loyal Communists who opposed

them. The one who upset me most was a national Executive member, Beatrix

Campbell, for whom I had previously had a good deal of respect for her

campaigning activity in the cause of women’s liberation.

Although I wrote several letters to her requesting her help over

Joan’s case she never replied to any of them. In my final letter to Beatrix about this sad saga, I made it clear

that I had no intention of harassing individuals but her refusal to

reply to my correspondence gave me the right to make public all the

submitted evidence. This I have now done, though it pains me to do so

and readers must draw their own conclusions. Male violence is, it

seems, acceptable to some people in certain political circumstances!

The witch-hunt was by now well under way against leading lights in

the trade union and labour movement. Ken Gill, then General Secretary

of the white collar engineering union AUEW-TASS; Derek Robinson, ex

convenor at Longbridge, British Leyland, sacked by Michael Edwardes in

1979; Ken Brett, Assistant General Secretary of the Amalgamated Union

of Engineers; Terry Marsland, Assistant General Secretary of the

Tobacco Workers’ Union and Arthur Utting, an Executive member of the

building workers’ union UCATT, were added to a list of over 100 who

were disciplined for “conduct deeply detrimental to the Party,” under

Rule 23.

Martin Jacques, moving their expulsion, claimed: “They were found

to have actively promoted policies contrary to those of the

leadership.” This is the same person who claimed as Editor of Marxism

Today, the theoretical journal of the CPGB: “I have found it

impossible to carry out the policies of the recent Congresses of the

CPGB.”

I joined this impressive list, being charged with two “offences”: 1) Writing an article in the Morning Star in May 1985 on the

miners’ strike. 2) Contravention of Rule 23(b) though a breach of rule 15(c) and for conduct detrimental to the Party. Yet this Rule 15(c) deals only with duties of members “To improve their knowledge of Marxism – to take part in discussion and formation of Party policy and to win support for the aims and policy of the

Party, including winning new members.” This charge was laid against me

despite my track record as Area Secretary in Scotland, Coalfield

Organiser in Yorkshire, Birmingham City Secretary, Midland District

Secretary and Member of the EC of the Communist Party.

I must have qualified on all these counts; a) to improve my

knowledge of Marxism, (when I joined the YCL I couldn’t read R.P.

Dutt’s Notes of the Month); b) To take part in the discussion and

formation of Party policy, (I was on the NEC of the Party during the

re-draft of the British Road to Socialism and represented the CPGB at

the Bulgarian Congress; c) Support the aims and policy of the Party.

Why did people like Bert Ramelson, Reuben Falber, John Gollan, Harry

Pollitt, Harry Bourne, Bill Laughlan and Gordon McLennan, support my

rapid promotion within the Party if I didn’t support the policy of the

Party?

The other charge of publishing an article in the Morning Star,

“Where he attacked the district leadership,” was dropped like a hot

brick when it became known that Pete Carter and Beatrix Campbell had

published articles in the New Statesman, and that Pete’s report to the

Political Committee for discussion at the special conference on May 15

never saw the light of day except in the March Marxism Today. I

understand that when Mick McGahey read it he said `NIET-NIET’ because

it attacked the NUM’s strike leadership. But McGahey himself was one

of the NUM “troika”, and George Bolton, the Chairman of the Party, was

involved in the “Broad Left” which formulated the strategy of the

strike. But Pete, unlike me, didn’t mention names.

So what else could they get Watters on? Rule 15(e); a rule in the

same batch but this time more serious, this refers to “Refusing

to fight against everything detrimental to the interest of the working

class and the Party.” This, by the way, was in 1985, after nearly

forty years of what Bill Morris described as my outstanding service to

“all sections of the movement”.

Let me make it clear, I was never officially charged with this

rule; it was only raised when they couldn’t pursue the charge over the

article in the Morning Star. After an hour’s debate at the August

District Committee in 1985, I defended my track record relating to

breach of rule 15(c). I kept repeating to all the members: “Have you

read this rule?” It was obvious they had not, or they would simply

have done what they did with the others and charge me on Rule 23,

“Conduct deeply detrimental to the Party” – like the “catch all”

charge used against our sacked miners “conduct deeply detrimental to

the industry.”

When the chairman, Dave Priscott, was ready to take the vote, he

looked at his Party card and I could see a strange look on his face.

He turned to Bill Innes, then District Secretary and said: “There has

been a mistake; this should have been Rule 15(e). It must have been a

technical error, so I suggest you change Rule 15(c) to Rule 15(e).” I

said: “Not on your life. I have three documents that state Rule

15(c). I argued my case on this Rule.” I kept repeating: “Do you

understand this is not a disciplinary Rule? This Rule does not carry

any disciplinary action.”

The meeting was in an uproar. I challenged the chair to rule “that

the charge should be dropped.” This fell on stony ground. Rule or no

rule, Watters had to be removed from the District Committee, from the

Mining Advisory, any position in his local branch and he had to be

made ineligible to be nominated for national or district congresses.

In other words he was to be put out to grass. My proposition was lost

and they thought people like Ken Gill, Ken Brett, Arthur Utting, Terry

Marsland, Frank Watters and others would join the Labour Party or

fling their weight behind the Communist Campaign Group, a front set up

to prepare for another breakaway, the Communist Party of Britain. None

of these, to my knowledge, did so as they had sufficient labour

movement experience to understand that such splits in the Communist

movements in other countries were disastrous and played into the hands of the Euros. (Frank Watters was opposed to the 1988 re-establishment of the CPB on tactical grounds, he felt that the fight to win back the CPGB had not been lost – at least until the 1991 dissolution of the CPGB. Whilst then joining the Communist Party of Scotland, he was in favour of the Communist Unity process that saw a subsequent qualitative change to the nature of the CPB.)

Now where did I go from here? I had been a proud member of the

Communist Party all my adult life, and squirts like the bunch around

Marxism Today who couldn’t lace the boots of those they claim were

carrying out anti-communist policies would not get us down.

I appealed against the decision. I submitted a three-page document for all members of the Appeals Committee to be acquainted

with my case before the hearing. Dave Priscott and Bill Innes

represented the Yorkshire District and made a verbal report. I expect

they had made enough blunders about their ignorance of Party rules.

Written documents could have been dangerous for them.

The Chairman was Reuben Falber and the other members of the Appeals Committee I had known for many years; Betty Reid, another real apparatchik, Alan Baker from the South Wales miners and Tom Mitchell. I made my point that my document said everything, but why was there no written evidence from the Yorkshire District Communist Party?

This was ruled irrelevant. I brought the committee’s attention to the

most blatantly inefficient method of work. Here we had someone being

charged with a certain offence and then we discovered it wasn’t what

it meant. It was like being charged for kidnapping and then having the

judge change his mind, “It should have been murder.”

Alan, Betty and Reuben, in defending the mistake of the District

said: “Frank you are an experienced comrade and you must have been

aware of this mistake.” Alan Baker kept repeating it, until I said,

“Yes, I know these silly buggers didn’t know the Rule book. One is a

member of the Political Committee and the other is District Secretary

– it is they who should be disciplined under Rule 23 for conduct

detrimental to the Party. If they don’t know their own Rule book they

shouldn’t be allowed to hold office.”

Then I went on to remind Alan of a fundamental tactic that all

trade union leaders use when defending their members. I was told: “You

always look at the small print, study the charge and if you find a

flaw you don’t even tell your client. In any tribunal or Court of Law

if the defendant is charged wrongly the case is automatically

dismissed.” I moved the same should happen in my case and that they

should use the rulebook correctly, not vindictively. I then said I

had had enough. I asked where I could collect my travelling and meal

expenses and told them I would await their deliberations.

On October 22 1985 Reuben Falber, Chairman, National Appeals

Committee, informed me: “The Appeals Committee decided that you were in breach of both Rules, 15(c) and 15(e). The Appeals Committee

decided to reject your appeal.” How could the National Appeals Committee uphold that the Yorkshire District were fully justified in taking action to remove me on the basis of a rule under which I was never charged? In such circumstances many would have called it a day. Not on your life, not with these people. I decided to appeal and face a National Congress, to be held in November 1987, to test whether they were all biased. The Appeals Committee for Congress is answerable to and approved by Congress.

Before I deal with my defence there, I must relate the most humiliating

experience. In all my years in the Party before then, we had tried to overcome differences by political argument and disciplinary actions by branches, district and the executive were very, very rare. The moment I entered the Congress hall, I was ushered into a room full of political criminals attended by guards to make sure they didn’t wander out of their courtroom. I requested the use of the toilet. At least we were allowed that privilege, but under strict guard to make sure that was all we did and to ensure we did not try to solicit support. The comrade who escorted me was an old Party friend I had known in Lanarkshire in the ’40s, Willie Duncan, and he stood behind me in the toilet until I finished. Another comrade whom I also knew from the 40s was on the same mission, Bob Horne, but he was a delegate and not under the threat of discipline. He remained in the Party until the end, then becoming a leading figure in the formation of the Scottish Communist Party.

The conversation with Bob went like this:

BH “How are you Frank?”

FW “Fine, but I am not allowed to have any conversation, I have been told.”

The last person I wanted to offend was my guide whose job was more like a prison officer than a Congress steward.

Now my turn had come. I was fully confident, well prepared and, as

usual, prepared to take on anyone who levelled false accusations

against me: “Working against the best interest of my Party and my

class, the working class.” That was the crime of which I was accused, no matter how anyone tries to disguise it or wrap it up in false

loyalties.

The chairperson read out the charge and made it clear. Length of

membership, service to the labour and trade union movement, service to the Party were all irrelevant. I couldn’t have got a better

introduction to test my nerves and class reaction. I don’t expect this

person knew anything about service to the working class because by now this, like socialism, was a dirty word to the Euros. The same people

who had hi-jacked the Party and made sure they had a majority of

delegates. I can remember Joe Stalin doing the same before he “cleansed” the CPSU of any opposition.

I was well prepared. I looked around the Congress. With the exception of the platform I didn’t know many faces. Watters’ blood was sweet and after all he deserved all that was coming because during the miners’ strike he was too close to Scargill and he, according to Alan Baker again in his infamous roundtable debate, “reflected the majority

of the young miners”. This was dangerous if the Party was to seek

alliance with the Liberal Democrats, or with the SDP, which Sue

Slipman, former CPGB executive member had joined.

I haven’t the space to relate my complete speech, but, believe it

or not, from what I thought was nearly a completely hostile Congress I

was rewarded with loud applause, though not from the platform, when I

said “Not guilty on all charges.” I went on: “In February of this year

the British miners expressed their gratitude for my services to them

and the wider movement by bestowing on me the highest award their

Union grants – Honorary Membership; the only Communist miner to

receive such a reward. But there is another who received this rare

award – Nelson Mandela. I am proud of my association and not one

member of that platform can display this card. Ask the car workers,

fire-fighters, health workers, steel workers, building workers, if I

have worked against their interests.”

I could add bakery workers, seamen, ambulance workers and the

campaign to release the black leader, Angela Davis. As Peter

Heathfield, General Secretary of the NUM, said in his letter awarding

me the honorary membership, in “recognition of, and as a tribute to,

your dedicated services to the NUM and its members.”

George Bolton who was chairman said: “Frank, finish.” I knew what

he meant, but I had the last word. “No George, not finished, I will

fight to my last day to remove this scandalous insult that my Party

has put on me – betraying my class, betraying my Party.”

I left before the count, but I was confident I would get a

respectable vote because I was sure they could not all be spineless

and there must be some with honest working class instincts. I was

right, in spite of the handpicked nature of many of them I won nearly one-third of the delegates. I was in a happy mood

when I bumped into Pete Carter outside Congress. Irrespective of my

strong differences with people, I always believe in “keep talking”. I

knew Pete had not supported me but he said: “You did well and the

Nelson Mandela card did it.” I replied: “It was truthful, that’s more

than I can say about the accusers who you support.”

Following Congress, I received a letter from Margaret Woddis,

Secretary to the EC, informing me that Congress had rejected my

appeal. End of play expected. But it was no empty statement when I

told George Bolton I would fight, fight and fight again. The next move was to put the ball back in the court of the District Committee on the grounds that my appeal to Congress was over my removal from office under Rule 15(c) and this was the only rule under which I was officially charged.

I understand the Yorkshire District Committee didn’t know how to

handle this new situation, which I suppose is unique in the history of

the CPGB. They replied: “a) National Congress has now confirmed the view of the National Appeals Committee and the Yorkshire District of the Party that you were in breach of rule; b) It would be helpful in considering your appeal, for you to comment on your current attitude to those breaches of rule and your intentions of adhering to the rules of the Party in future, and whether you will accept decisions of the National Congress and the elected leadership of the Party.”

No problem in replying, but not the sort of reply they wanted.

Bless me father for I have sinned on all three counts. By this time I had become an expert on Inner Party Democracy, the guideline to all Party Rules. Whether one agreed with all aspects of IPD, it was approved by Congress and binding on all party members, especially officers of the Party. Like any officers of a trade union, irrespective of whether they agree with the rulebook, they must abide by it.

I pointed out that I had exhausted any further appeal nationally.

They had rejected any further appeal. It did not mean, however, that I

must agree with its decision. IPD makes it clear:

1) Comrades had a right to disagree with Party decisions, and to

reserve their position. What they couldn’t do was publicly to oppose

the Party decisions;

2) I hadn’t changed my mind. But, lifting the restriction on my

Party membership was a matter for the Yorkshire District Committee.

What I was requesting was full Party membership rights in line with

the spirit of IPD procedure;

3) Was the restricted membership for life, or for a given period, as there were no rules covering this?

4) As for Party Rules, I had always accepted these, or otherwise I

wouldn’t have been a member for over 40 years. It was the Yorkshire

District Committee that broke the rules by charging me under a rule

that didn’t carry any disciplinary action. In these circumstances could I have my 1988 card restored to me with full rights as any other member in Yorkshire?

This caused more panic. Should I be invited to the District Committee to answer any further charges? Those who attended Congress

as delegates didn’t relish this idea. So, a compromise was agreed. A

couple of members of the Secretariat would meet me and discuss the

matter. I accepted with a condition that people like Roy Rix and Vicky

Seddons, who were members of the Secretariat who wanted to expel me, should not be included in any discussion as I was only removed from office.

When we met at Northern College, I didn’t get the impression that

the vindictive war of attrition was over. Bill Innes, in the most

provocative way, said: “Frank, you know there is talk of a split in

the Party around the CCG what’s your attitude?” (CCG was the Communist Campaign Group of expelled Party members that formed the basis for the re-established Communist Party of Britain.) He was hoping I would say “favourable” but he was disappointed by my answer. The next comment was: “Frank, we would all like to resolve this problem, but you must accept the removal from office was the least we could get the District Committee to accept. Unless you are prepared to accept that

you might have been wrong, then I am going to have problems with my

District Committee.” I replied: “That’s your problem, you created it,

now solve it. All I am asking is an end to my second class membership

and restoration of all my rights as I am not guilty.” I could see he

was getting upset that I was in no mood to make any compromise to

accommodate those responsible for my humiliating experience at the

Congress. Then he said: “Really Frank, do you want your card?” At this

I replied: “If you repeat that again your bloody head will go through

that wall.” It was obvious that what he wanted was an admission so

that the District Committee could enforce some penance before

forgiveness.

I said: “Before I do something that will give you a legitimate

excuse I am off and don’t delay with your reply as time is running out

to the point where you may have another excuse under lapse of

membership after eight weeks arrears.”

On February 25 1988, two and a half years later, I was informed

that the District Committee had agreed that the disciplinary action

taken against me for breach of rule had now been terminated.

One would have thought after this “clean bill of health” that all

rights would have been restored, including being invited to the

National Mining Advisory meeting that was due to meet on March 19th that year. Pete Carter, who nearly broke his heart about the way I was

being treated, was consulted and Pete ruled that only working miners

were allowed to attend this meeting. I hadn’t worked in the pits since

1953, but I had not only attended National Advisories ever since but had been in charge of the Yorkshire coalfield.

How could Pete justify all those listed in the Sunday Times investigation over Edwardes’ Recovery Plan who didn’t work at British Leyland being allowed to attend advisory meetings? How could he justify Bill Mathews from Yorkshire, a retired miner, two editors of the miners’ papers, two full-time officials, Bill Innes and Roy Rix, plus Terry Wilde from the post office engineers, Jimmy Miller, an ex-miner from Scotland, all at a meeting in January to railroad the Party to support Eric Clarke. Young Jimmy Miller, the son, was at a later meeting although he had taken early voluntary retirement from Kellingley after he spoiled his good record by committing the cardinal sin of failing to process compensation cases, costing the Yorkshire Area thousands of pounds through settlements out of court. He was no longer a member of the NUM, let alone a working miner. Again, the goal posts were moved. I was not to be fully welcomed back into the fold. Maybe they were afraid that, after two and a half years of isolation, my hair like Samson’s had

grown back and maybe I might be able to play an active part in bringing down the “Temple”.

This brought me to the end of my active membership of the CPGB.

Although the Euros didn’t dissolve the Party until November 1991, I

remained a card-holding member but, with my hair growing longer, I

thought there were more important things than destroying the “Temple”.

Like those responsible for the corruption and abuse of power by

similar apparatchiks in the former Soviet Communist Party, those who

had failed the CPGB had no right to survive. I was no longer publicly

harassed, so I spent my new strength in the way I always have, fighting

for my class and bringing credit to the philosophy of Socialism in the

best tradition of the Jacobins, Luddites, Owenites and the Chartists,

new model unionists and syndicalists, as well as those thousands of Communist Party members I have been privileged to know over the years. This wealth of tradition and philosophy was based on the material and cultural satisfaction of humanity, not the satisfaction of a greedy few, or dubious political fixers.

Chapter 21

“A proper code of conduct and respect for the facilities offered by the movement is vital” – The Seafarers’ Strike 1988-9

During the 1984/85 miners strike, members of the National Union of Seamen were very active, organising collections with seafarers on land and sea.

Also, along with the rail union, NUR (with which they are now amalgamated as the RMT), they played an important role in preventing foreign coal being dumped, especially in Humberside and Yorkshire. The late Sammy Thompson, Yorkshire Vice President of the NUM, and Jim Slater of the NUS from the North East of England worked very closely together and developed a personal bond of friendship. Naturally, when Jim’s members became involved in their own 1988-89 strike, he phoned Sam to see what help, especially of the financial kind, he could get. He was knocking at an open door as there has always been a close affinity between our two communities, sharing the common experience of a working life full of danger and tragedies.

I had a phone call from “Inky” Thompson, once a Branch Secretary

of the NUM, but, like many more, now made redundant. He had, however, remained active in the movement. Sammy and Inky were big pals, so naturally he contacted him to arrange a get-together to meet some seafarers from Dover who had been invited into the coalfield. Inky asked me to join them, knowing that, with my contacts in the coalfield

and the wider movement, I was the one most suitable to deliver the goods. Once I knew that Sammy, who by this time was General Secretary of the Yorkshire Area and Vice President of the NUM, was giving full support, raising money for the seafarers, or for any other sections of the working class, was easy.

The following morning we set up office. This time, alongside the

usual appeal to all sections of the Movement in Yorkshire, we had

another massive field to cultivate – the Working Men’s Clubs. I had

obtained a list of all Club addresses and phone numbers. In South

Yorkshire we had over 2,000 Working Men’s Clubs to which we could send appeals. My big friend (indeed a friend to many), Phillip Thompson, was in charge of Yorkshire NUM administration, and he found means to provide all the necessities, including a postman’s collecting bag, with free postage. Within two weeks we had received nearly £1,500 in donations.

One of the problems we had with this strike, different from any other,

was that we were operating from ‘far a-field’, with a quite

inexperienced crew with no knowledge of the area. We had to involve

many non-strikers, but always under strict instruction that they

should operate under the rules and practices laid down by those in

charge. I have had too much experience of the cowboys and political

vultures that use genuine struggles as vehicles to peddle their own

wares. The money collected was mainly for hardship, but instead of one

hardship fund, there were six groups, some large some small (Dover,

Folkestone, Deal, Thanet, Canterbury, Aylesham).

Each naturally wanted as much as possible for their own local fund. We made it clear that we wanted some guidance as to the numbers involved, so that we could share the cash equitably. We found it difficult to get a true picture. We always tried to insist on getting receipts for money sent, but they were not always forthcoming, especially from Deal. I raised this matter with Peter Mason, who was the main rank-and-file leader, but I got the impression they were all guilty of the sin of wanting to look after their own group. I also raised it with Sam McCluskey, NUS General Secretary, but again got little response, because it was such a hornet’s nest of a problem and, as it was only hardship money, not official strike funds, the officials closed their eyes to what was going on.

It was not a happy position we were faced with. A new team would

arrive every Monday, some staying a few days, some going home on

Saturday, some travelling on their own. Some began to make their own

arrangements for accommodation, once they had first visited the area

and found a more comfortable and attractive bed than those provided in

the student accommodation at Northern College, while the students were absent on their long summer vacation. Then there were problems with discipline. Some turned in at 10.00 a.m. or later, expecting to be

allowed to go for breakfast, instead of getting up early and using the

College facilities for breakfast and a canteen meal paid for out of

their £5 daily allowance.

The biggest headache was controlling the finances with the lack of

continuity. There should have been someone responsible from day one.

Luckily, I had a friend, Betty Hancock, wife and mother of two miners

who had twelve months experience of strike collecting. Betty would get

into the office provided by the Yorkshire NUM and collect all the post

addressed to the Seafarers. At least we had some control, and with

other volunteers we soon got cracking, organising pithead

collections. Mike Hyde and Keith Guest collected every Friday in

Barnsley market. Rodney Marshall and others went round Goldthorpe on a Saturday night, Sunday morning and Sunday evening, covering at least ten clubs and pubs. Rodney, of course, was available only on Saturday night and some Sunday evenings as he was at that time still wearing the “Cloth”, Sunday mornings being a working stint for a priest!

By the end of October, when this fund raising had been going on

for nearly four months, the physical and mental strain was starting to

show on Betty and myself. Expenses were reaching nearly £300 per week.

Cars arrived with one person in them, claiming £50 petrol money, plus

any running repairs. Some collectors disappeared over the weekend,

which were the vital days, and appeared on Monday morning expecting to receive three days’ allowance. They soon realised this was not on. I

wrote a strong letter to Deal, making it clear certain people would

not be welcome in Yorkshire. If they appeared, there would be no

expenses of any kind. I received a sharp reply to the effect that they

would decide whom they thought suitable and they demanded a written

reply as to why their conduct was being questioned. We treated this

with the same contempt as they had shown to us, with their refusal to

acknowledge cheques sent to them.

The situation got so bad that Betty broke down, crying at the treatment we had to endure. I was accused of withholding a cheque for over $400. The person who was responsible didn’t like my making him use a £50 donation from the FBU to cover his private accommodation. He thought it was a personal gift, but when I told him we didn’t give personal gifts to anyone on strike, I was in his black books. The only way I was able to get Betty to continue was with the help we now had from a good team we had developed with Pauline Smith, Eric Ilsley, Barnsley Central MP, Mike Hyde and Rodney Marshall.

Then we made a decision that only one seafarer would be required

in Barnsley at any one time. By this time a certain seafarer had his

feet well under a lady-friend’s table anyway and we needed someone who could sign cheques along with Keith Ward, from the Cokemen’s Section of the NUM Administration. The name of this seafarer was Dick Scaife and he later dropped a clanger, with another signatory to the account, Peter Cavrilovic, when they tried to cash a counter cheque for £400 the same day we closed the account, on January 15th 1989.

Along with Keith Ward, Scaife had signed a typed document in my

house to close the account. I was in possession of all the remaining

cheques. The following morning I saw the Manager of the Co-op Bank and explained that we had a balance of over £400 and I was depositing

another £600-worth of cheques that had come in after Christmas. Once

they were cleared and bank charges had been deducted, we wanted the

remainder sent to the NUS. That afternoon Peter Cavrilovic arrived in

Barnsley, contacted Dick Scaife and got to know there was a balance of

over £400 in the account. They went to the bank and asked for a

counter cheque. They were well known by some of the staff from their

weekly visits. The girl on the desk thought it was strange, with

thousands of pounds withdrawn through their chequebooks, why they now wanted a counter cheque.

She contacted the Manager, who immediately phoned Keith Ward whom he knew personally. Keith was well aware of my initiative and confirmed that the account was to be closed, so the Manager refused to pay the counter cheque. This, I understand, upset Peter who went to the Cokemen’s office to play hell over my intervention, arguing that no money should be sent to the NUS without their permission. Little did they realise my good relations with Keith and Idwal Morgan, the Secretary of the Cokemen’s Section. Keith made it clear that the only reason he agreed to be a signatory in the first place was that he knew that, as long as Frank Watters was in charge, everything would be above board. Peter then went on to slag off the leadership of the NUS, but he was lucky to be able to walk down the stairway because by this time Idwal had made an appearance.

All this was reported to the Union and I wrote to my friend John

Prescott, MP, for whom I have a lot of respect. Sam McClusky, I

understand, was going through a rough time, so I excused him. But

there is one lesson. Anyone on strike must be seen to be 100%

committed and scrupulous financially and certainly not to use absence

from home as an excuse for personal enjoyment. Always remember, there is usually a partner left behind to hold the fort, feed and look after

the family. Their contribution in many cases is greater. Secondly,

always remember there are others who may be on strike and need similar help. Therefore a proper code of conduct and respect for the

facilities offered by the movement is vital.

The big advantage was that Betty and others involved were so

highly respected that all this had no adverse effect in getting the

Yorkshire Area NUM to spare no effort in helping any section on

strike. It was always a pleasure to work with their staff, especially

my friend Phillip Thompson and Doug Fellowes before him.

Eliminating a large band of expensively maintained seafarers meant

we had only a minimum of expenses and a free hand and resources to

concentrate on giving every seafarer’s child a Christmas to remember,

just as the miners’ children had received in 1984. We informed all the

groups that no money would be released until a strange Father

Christmas called Betty visited Dover. I honestly think they thought

Betty would, like certain people during the miners strike, arrive with

a cardboard box or a briefcase loaded with fivers. To their surprise,

what Betty took was a £30.00 Co-op voucher made out in the name of

each of the children submitted to us. The cost was £10,380 plus £5,000

to be shared among the six groups. Not a bad Christmas box, but not

received in the spirit it was delivered.

I phoned Peter Mason and told him to look after Betty. When Betty enquired why he was not there to receive the vouchers and the cheque for £5,000, she received some rude remarks that Peter Mason was supposed to have made when he heard Betty was coming down to their Christmas Party. She spent the evening in the company of someone who had started the festive season early, who told her that they were happy to continue on strike as long as the brass flowed. You will readily appreciate that, in such circumstances, if any of those involved had put their foot in Barnsley, we could not guarantee their safe return to Dover.

We discussed all these tensions with the Yorkshire Area NUM

Officials, who were aware things weren’t too good, and agreed enough

was enough. We decided to try and get as satisfactory audit as

possible, with the balance sent to the NUS for them to decide upon its

destination. We worked hard, especially Pauline and Betty, and came up

with a balance sheet that showed we had raised £35,160. £10,330 had

been divided among the six groups, £15,830 spent on Christmas vouchers with some £7,000 in expenses. These expenses had mainly been the £5 per day paid to each seafarer visiting South Yorkshire along with petrol and car expenses. A balance of over £1,000 was sent to the NUS when we finally closed our books.

Chapter 22 The Ambulance Workers’ Strike 1989-90

Before I let Barry Hellewell, NUPE Convenor and Shop Steward, tell his

own version of this great historical struggle with which I was so

proud to be involved, let me set the scene. The public support was

magnificent and proved, if proof is needed to those who think Thatcher

has permanently weakened organised labour, that no government dare take on NHS workers lightly.

The “New Thinkers” who believe that “The March of Labour has been halted” must have got a shock then. This time the excuses of “Violence”, “Wrong issue”, “Lack of Public Opinion” and “No

Ballots”, used by Labour leaders to distance themselves from the

1984/85 miners strike, were not available. But these same, now

departed, Labour leaders like Kinnock and Hattersley, distanced

themselves from this strike as far as they did from the miners. What

an opportunity was missed to take up the banner that the miners had

had to drop a few years earlier – an opportunity to deliver a more

crushing defeat. This could have done more for the election of a

Labour Government than all the gimmicks and glitter of Labour rallies

and TV presentation.

This was the theme of what I will always remember as the most

pleasant and fruitful pep talk, when I was asked to address the

ambulance staff of Barnsley, Hoyland and Wombwell. I was under the

impression that it was only the strike committee I was meeting, but to

my surprise and later my delight, the room was packed with intelligent

ambulance personnel, many of them young women.

I got the impression they had much higher qualifications than

those attributed to them by Kenneth Clark, the Secretary of State for

Health, who described them as “Professional Drivers”. My impression

was different from his and, in the course of the next weeks, I had

proof that mine was the correct interpretation.

There are two incidents worth recalling for their lovely humanity

and class-consciousness. I remember one morning getting a phone call from Anne Scargill. “Frank, Dad has fallen in the house and they have sent a police ambulance – he won’t let them touch him.” The police and army were, of course filling in for the regular ambulance crews during their dispute – scabbing in fact. I told Anne not to worry. “Leave it at that – make your way to your Dad’s house – there will be two ambulance personnel, plus a proper emergency ambulance to look

after him.” Derek Johnson and Alan Foster, whose father was an old Party member and knew the Scargills and their parents, arrived within minutes. An emergency ambulance landed at the door, where there was

already a police ambulance, with two bewildered policemen unable to

understand why this old man, maybe with a broken thigh, wouldn’t let

them help. They soon discovered when Anne arrived.

One of the ambulance lads heard this young bobby saying, “That’s Arthur Scargill’s wife, that’s why.” Little did they know that Anne’s Dad,

Elliot Harper, had a longer and more bitter experience than Arthur

himself. Elliot was of a generation of militant miners long before

Arthur was born, and his hatred of scabs, be they miners or police ran

deep. That’s why he said, “Get your scabby, bastard hands off me.”

So the so-called “Professional Drivers” were soon demonstrating

their skills, lifting Elliot in a position to do the least harm. They

took the ambulance to Barnsley District General Hospital and helped

him to the theatre, where they knew he would be in good hands. Then

they returned to see old Mrs Harper and Anne to assure them that

Elliot was in good hands and as usual a nice cup of tea with a

friendly chat was welcome.

These are the lads and lasses old people have to depend on. Their

professional skills can’t be found in police manuals. It was these

caring people that were obliged over that Christmas to take to the

streets with their begging buckets to win a decent wage. They, like

the nurses, miners and many more were driven into taking strike

action. I am sure that this lesson and experience will have a lasting

effect. Of that I am certain and I appreciate it when I hear the toot

of the ambulance horns, when they pass me in Barnsley. I know that I

won’t have any problem getting this service if required!

There was another incident in which the Scargill family was

involved. Arthur was feeling under the weather. Margaret, his

daughter, then a medical student and now a qualified doctor, knew he

needed medical treatment, so she volunteered to take him to hospital.

I expect he was in one of those moods where only he knew best and he

refused to go. But he was up against one who was born and bred with

similar stubbornness, who would never take ‘no’ for an answer. He was

given the choice, “Go with me, or I will phone 999 and you will take

the consequences – scab police ambulance or a scab army driver.” It

wasn’t even Hobson’s choice, so he made a rare retreat and compromised.

Pic: Far left, Sean Cannon, then of the Dubliners, with Frank presenting a cheque for £600 to striking ambulance workers from Hoyland and Wombwell.

My thanks to the ambulance staff from Barnsley, Hoyland, Wombwell, for your wonderful inscribed briefcase that I so often proudly display. Thanks for the lesson to teach to all – don’t be afraid to take on any

Government if you think your cause is justified.

“Within 24 hours Frank had started the ball rolling!!”

By Barry Hellewell, NUPE Convenor and Shop Steward, Barnsley

Ambulance Workers.

In South Yorkshire, the ambulance crews began an overtime ban in

September 1989 as the first stage of industrial action aimed at

securing an increase in the 6.5 per cent pay offer. The crews pledged to continue handling ‘999’ cases, regardless of overtime, but on November 9 the action was escalated with the suspension of all transport of day-care cases.

Meetings were held regularly at COHSE headquarters in Sheffield

and at one of these it was decided to set up a South Yorkshire

hardship fund. There was a national fund, but it was felt a local one

would be more beneficial to local crews and help both them and the

contributors to identify with the dispute. A Finance Committee was

formed with one representative from each of the four South Yorkshire

districts.

In late November, it was decided to escalate the dispute further

by refusing to co-operate with management by “floating” staff from one

station to another to provide cover in the event of absence. On

December 4, management responded by suspending all accident and

emergency staff.

This caused great concern among the staff, who had maintained

their pledge to guarantee there would be no loss of emergency cover

and an urgent meeting was called. There, it was decided that

volunteers would staff the stations on a rota basis, providing 24-hour

emergency cover, regardless of pay. The crews felt they owed a duty to

the public and that qualified ambulance personnel were better suited

to dealing with emergencies than the untrained and ill-equipped police

who had been drafted in by management. The crews maintained this

voluntary cover throughout, but management made a point of not calling on them except in the most exceptional circumstances.

Individual crews were trying to run the dispute from their own

stations and we thought we were pretty well organised, an assumption

which was proved totally wrong when I made a belated call to Frank

Watters. I had been told earlier to contact him, but it was December 13

before I finally rang him and told him that, although I had never

heard of him, I had been told he would help us raise funds.

He was very abrupt and told me I should have contacted him

earlier. We arranged a meeting for the following day at Barnsley

Ambulance Station and when he arrived he was aghast at the way we were trying to operate. We had no private telephone, nowhere to hold meetings and no privacy at all. Frank suggested that he and I should go to my home for a private conversation and there he explained who he was and how he had been involved in other disputes. He asked me to telephone the Regional office of NUPE, but for whatever reasons, no official could be found. Frank was dumbfounded and I had to agree with him when he asked how, in the middle of a national dispute, this could be so.

Within 24 hors Frank had started the ball rolling. He fixed us up

with a room at the Yorkshire Miners’ headquarters in Barnsley, where

we had the use of a telephone. The following day he gave me 300 copies

of an appeal letter to be sent out to clubs and pubs all over the

county. Unfortunately, he had omitted to get the original signed

before copying it and I had to sit down and personally sign them all!

I was at it for two hours from 6.30 a.m. to meet a 9 a.m. deadline,

when Frank had organised groups of staff to take them out and deliver

them – a task which took the rest of the day.

Within three days we had a response to this initiative and the staff were visibly lifted as funds began to come in. Over the next

seven days, leading up to Christmas, the response from the general

public was overwhelming. Frank accurately forecast this response but

warned us that it would wane in the immediate post-Christmas period. He came into our office every day, phoning to organise benefit

concerts and collections. Nothing seemed too much trouble for him,

though he always wanted everything done ‘yesterday’.

Then he arranged a permanent base for us in another NUM office

just up the road and had a telephone installed within 24 hours. Frank

then introduced me to an ex-NUM official, Eric Mountain, who proved to

be a great help to us all throughout the dispute.

As soon as we were established in our new office, I delegated the

responsibility for handling the cash to one of our members, Derek

Johnson. He told me he had never had any experience of bookkeeping,

but he took the job on. A little later I found him an assistant in the shape of John Green, one of our day staff who had been ill with Bell’s Palsy. He had previously been very active in the dispute and, as soon as he

recovered enough to come into our new office, he provided welcome

assistance for Derek and, between them, under Frank’s guidance they

kept all the finances in proper order.

Frank was meticulous about accounting for cash receipts and

disbursements and he gave Derek his own cashbook to record all the

donations that came in. The same book had previously been used in the

seafarers’ dispute and contained a similar record of the cash he had

helped to raise for them; a nice instance of the interconnections

between struggles in which Frank has been intimately involved.

As in any dispute, there were highs and lows. Many staff were

upset when they read in Press reports that the police were being paid

£19 per hour on overtime to provide cover at the ambulance stations –

far more than would have been needed to settle the dispute – and many

were also depressed by what they saw as a lack of support from the

Labour Party national leadership.

But there were abiding memories too of high points. One such was

the London rally, which proved a great success and provided a great

morale booster as over 50,000 ambulance crews and their families and

supporters packed Trafalgar Square. The response and support from the general public was unforgettable for all those who took part. Frank

said it was one of the biggest rallies he had attended and pointed out

there were no arrests. The following day the News of the World reported that “around 6,000 ambulance staff and their families” had attended. Perhaps they use a similar accounting procedure to calculate their circulation figures!

We learned a lot during the dispute, not least about ourselves.

Some characters whom I would not previously have expected to have the stamina or commitment for the struggle proved their worth and strength and one or two proved less reliable than some of us might have expected, but the vast majority of us in South Yorkshire pulled

together, inspired by Frank’s guidance and efforts. At the end of the dispute we organised a Back-to Work Disco in Barnsley, at which we presented Frank with an inscribed briefcase and Eric Mountain was presented with an inscribed tankard.

I still keep in touch with Frank and often visit him at his home.

I will always be grateful for his efforts on our behalf, not only by

raising vital funds but also by inspiring us all with the sort of

confidence the ruling class is constantly trying to undermine.

Chapter 23

NUM Presidential and Vice-Presidential Elections and the problems facing the `New Realists’

In 1987, the Scottish NUM successfully proposed a resolution that all

miners’ officials be subject to periodic election. Being fully in

support of that position, despite the fact that he was not bound to,

Arthur took a decision that he would offer himself for re-election in

1988.

This caught the “New Realist grouping”, unprepared. Arthur

Scargill, a strong advocate of periodic election, dropped a bombshell

at the end of 1987 when he told the NEC that he intended to resign and

offer himself for re-election. This followed a decision of the NEC,

that any official elected before 1st August 1983 who decided to

contest another position inside the union should resign his current

position, in line with objectives laid down in the 1987 conference

decision.

When it became known that Arthur wanted to comply with this rule

Holy Hell was let loose. The Glasgow Herald carried the story: “Miners’ leaders attack Scargill but refuse to nominate a rival.” They were upset by Scargill’s decision to call a snap election thus avoiding pending

legislation, which would have changed the election rules. The Scottish

NUM President was quoted as saying: “In our view the election serves

no purpose. It is a waste of time and money.”

The rival candidate was John Walsh who declared he was not too

disheartened and drew comfort from the fact that the Scottish NUM was

not endorsing Scargill. Maybe he expected his friends in the

‘Left’-Centre-Right, anti-Scargill alliance to come out into the open

and declare their real allegiance. Walsh went on television and

declared he had the support of the Scottish NUM, including the

National Vice President, Mick McGahey. Thousands saw the broadcast but when McGahey refuted the allegation in a letter to the Morning Star it would have been read by only a relative handful. But it was Bolton’s

abdication of leadership that gave Walsh the chance to make the claim

in the first place.

South Wales took legal advice challenging the national executive

decision, in spite of the fact it was union policy and some like

George Bolton, had urged Arthur and Peter Heathfield to put themselves up for election as soon as possible and not wait until “Thatcher

determined the terms of their election”.

What was clear was that Scargill, a crafty fox who knows his union

rulebook better than any Bishop knows the Bible, caught most of them

out, thinking that if they were elected before, August 1983, they

were in for life, but Scargill was having none of it. South Wales got caught up in a legal argument that went on for weeks, meanwhile the ‘Re-election of Scargill’ bandwagon was well on its way. Over forty rallies and meetings were organised all over the country.

Arthur launched his campaign at a packed meeting in the

Copperfield Social Club in Ffynnoncroew, North Wales, where he got a

standing ovation in spite of the fact that this Area’s leadership

sponsored Walsh. When it became clear that Arthur had taken the gamble of his life and the response of the rank and file in areas like Scotland, South Wales, and North West was in contrast to that of their leaders, “Re-Elect Scargill” Committees sprang up in all these areas. In

Scotland where there was confusion about the name McGahey linked in

support of Walsh, young Mick McGahey, Junior, a sacked miner put an

end to this by becoming secretary of the Re-Elect Scargill committee.

Dave Hamilton, another sacked miner, started organising rallies in the

main coalfield. Pits like Monkton Hall, and Seafield, both in the

Lothians, the Barney in Ayrshire and in Stirlingshire now nominated

Scargill. In the campaign six meetings were held in Scotland over the

weekend of 11-13 December; the same occurred in Wales, Midlands and the North East.

Soon the “Re-Elect Scargill” stickers were appearing in hundreds

of thousands, and posters, and area election specials featured the new

In contrast, at the Catholic Club, St Wilfred’s, in Coalville, a packed meeting of over 200 attended. Chaired by Keith Vaz, MP for Leicester East, the local paper described the meeting with the headline: “Arthur still packs ‘em in”.

When Jones found out that Scargill was to speak on the same

evening as Walsh, he went berserk. He was furious that a local Catholic

priest had allowed “a Communist the use of his hall”. I was told

threats were made that if the meeting was allowed to go on the club

could be smashed up! No money was too much to offer the priest to

cancel the meeting, but to his credit he stuck to his guns and

confirmed to me later over a drink and chat at the bar: “that he

thought Scargill was a man of principle”.

It was a difficult campaign; in fact the celebrations had already

started in Castleford, John Walsh’s hometown, on the Sunday night of

the count. The significance of the election and result was illustrated when Alain Simon phoned us at Scargill’s house from Paris. The

local media there had carried the news even before the BBC flashed it. We toasted a great victory. On January 24, 1988, I received the following the hand written note: “To Frank, with my thanks, to the best organiser I have ever known and a dear friend and comrade. Arthur”.

Under the union rules that result should have seen Scargill

installed as President until he retired as, after a five-year term of

office, he would be over the age of 55 after which national officials

are not required to stand for re-election. This upset Thatcher and the

media, who thought they had finished Scargill off. Even Neil Kinnock

was quietly predicting a “Palace Revolution” within the NUM.

Out-manoeuvred by Scargill, Thatcher decided it was time to move the

goalposts again and another new anti-union bill was rushed through

Parliament requiring re-election of union national officials by postal

ballot every five years regardless of their age.

Then came the Vice-Presidential contest of 1989. Sammy’s ashes hadn’t settled down before Eric Clarke was announced as the “Unity” candidate. But in February, at a special conference on officials and staff cuts, it was decided that Scotland, with a membership of just over 3,000 but with three officials and four staff was to lose some of its top-heavy administration. Eric Clarke volunteered for early retirement so he withdrew from the Vice

President’s race.

During a tea break at another meeting of the ‘New Left’ the Vice President’s position was again discussed. John Walsh was on the NEC of the NUM and was under pressure to decide whether to contest for re-election or go for the National Vice Presidency. Johnny knew that,

with both positions running at the same time, it would not be to his advantage to have his name on two ballot papers simultaneously. The

outcome of this tea-break discussion was that John Walsh would stand as the front-runner, but George Bolton and George Rees would allow

their names to be put forward. This would allow them to hedge their bets and with a 1, 2, 3 treble one of them would win with Johnny Walsh

the favourite. Remember how Alec Moffatt was defeated by the transferable votes distributed to Sid Ford? This time the “Geordies’”

vote would go to Walsh. As the Yorkshire Post said, long before the replacement of Sammy was considered, Ken Homer, the Financial

Secretary of the Yorkshire NUM, would be the “Scargillite” candidate.

What Ken and others were concerned about were the finances of the Union. The proposal to elect the National Vice President from among

members of the NEC, rather than by an individual ballot vote of the whole membership would save approximately £35,000. All this would

require a change of rule. The special conference rule change vote was 0.6 per cent short of the necessary two-thirds majority.

Here, for the first time, the new “anti-Scargill group,” formed in 1986, came out in the open, with Scotland and South Wales voting with

renowned right-wing areas. The members of this caucus are listed in information bulletins of the Jim Conway Foundation. The rejection of the NEC recommendation meant thousands of pounds would be added to the overdraft, with heavy interest rates. The Union

was under instructions to proceed with this costly exercise of electing a Vice President whose term of office was only two years. At the February NEC, it was agreed to publish in “The Miner” details of how the “Ballot will be conducted to elect the National Vice President.”

This made it clear that “each branch” was entitled to submit one nomination of a person suitable for election as National Vice

President. Then it went on to state: “In the event of more than one nomination for the position of National Vice President, the Area shall

submit the nominations to a “branch” vote in order to determine the nomination to be submitted on behalf of the Area to the National

Union.”

Fair, democratic, and with adequate time to call special branch meetings to nominate and a further branch meeting to consider any

other nominations. All areas complied with this except South Wales. They took out a Court injunction blocking the election of a new Vice

President. Many readers must be astonished that an Area like South Wales, with a glorious past history of struggle, which provided outstanding leaders like Arthur Horner and Will Paynter, should now see the current leadership moving so dramatically to the right, joining forces with the breakaway UDM, using biased courts against their own union. The judge ruled that Branches, and that meant members, had no

rights in the matter of nominating a suitable candidate for National positions. They could only make “suggestions.” Then the Area Executive Committees, comprising six or seven members, had to decide on who they thought would be a “good nominee”.

Not even the Area Councils could put forward “good nominees.” According to the judge, Sir Peter Pain, they had to accept “Hobson’s

choice,” or, as he put it, “The old, discredited ‘politburo’ style of centralism”, denying the rank and file members the democratic right of

choice. The cost of this undemocratic action by the leadership of the South Wales Area NUM was estimated at £80,000. Again it was paid from

a costly overdraft.

The outcome was that John Walsh was a victim. Johnny didn’t stand for re-election for the NEC. He awaited the outcome of the court case.

But a rule change was carried at the 1991 Conference whereby all NEC members, who were already elected by membership vote, could therefore stand on behalf of their constituencies for National office and Frank Cave was duly elected as Vice President.

All this could have taken place in 1988, saving the NUM £80,000 and avoiding the discrediting of the good name of the South Wales miners. I am sure many will find the motives of the South Wales leadership difficult to understand. But I am equally sure they will have no difficulty understanding why the judge favoured South Wales.

Chapter 24

The Jim Parker incident “Pieces of silver … blood money from a crook and a thief”

At the 1992 NUM Conference, Peter Heathfield denounced former NUM employees who took “pieces of silver” from former “Mirror” proprietor and thief, Robert Maxwell. In the light of the revelations that many pensioners on a low income are among the victims, one would have

thought if these former NUM employees had any decency in their bodies they would hand back this dirty money and ask for forgiveness.

The one who upset me most of all was Jim Parker, Arthur Scargill’s chauffeur and life-long friend. Both joined the Young Communist League

together when I was the South Yorkshire Secretary of the Communist Party. I knew Jim and all his family and I am sure they are shocked if the truth was told.

On Monday July 3 1989 the Daily Mirror ran a story, “Scargill axes his minder pal,” in which it was claimed Arthur had made Jim take

voluntary redundancy because he couldn’t justify having him as his chauffeur as the Union was cutting down on administrative jobs. Jim

reluctantly accepted a £20,000 golden handshake and a pension for life but, according to the Mirror, an onlooker said: “There was a bit of a

bust up between the two old pals.” Who was this onlooker? He or she must have been in the building and no one was better placed than Jim

himself to reveal the name, a suspicion that he was, indeed, later to confirm.

When the story appeared under the by-line of Terry Pattinson on the opening of the NUM Conference in Scarborough, I treated it as another attempt by the media to distract attention from the real problems facing the NUM and the coal industry. It wasn’t until Mick Clapham, at that time the NUM Industrial Relations Officer, told me on Wednesday, July 5 that a strong rumour was circulating that Jim Parker had agreed, for a large sum of money, to talk to the press about matters relating to the 1984/85 strike and the President’s personal affairs. He asked me to try to see Jim as soon as possible as he couldn’t understand the basis for such an article. Mick, who was the staff trade union representative, said: “When the agreement was reached between Jim and the Union, the branch expressed its delight that a satisfactory severance payment had been agreed and Jim had accepted what, in my opinion, was a reasonable settlement under the

circumstances.”

I was later asked by Arthur Scargill to see Jim Parker. He said he had tried to get Jim on the phone. He asked Derek Stubbings, another close mutual acquaintance, to deliver a note to Jim giving a personal telephone number to ring. “I just can’t make head nor tale of this, but I am concerned” said Arthur. “Leave it alone, I will soon get to the bottom of it”, I replied. I told Arthur I would make it a priority to see Jim when I got back to Barnsley. I tried to see him on the Saturday but he had gone away for the weekend. On Sunday, July 9 I phoned Jim’s home and he was in a jovial mood. I arranged to see him on the following day to talk over the matter.

We had a very enjoyable, friendly and serious discussion about the problems of the Party and the effect divisions were having on the Labour Movement. We then got down to the problem of this article in the Daily Mirror. At this stage Jim made it clear he was not aware of it until the Press had informed him a week before. He claimed he had never spoken to the Press and never would talk to the capitalist Press, especially “scab” Press like the Sun and News of the World.

I allowed him to pour out his feelings and I listened very carefully with an open mind and gave him the assurance that what we said to each other was on the basis of mutual trust and respect. But these kinds of rumours did worry people. People like Mick Clapham and Arthur Scargill, and I had promised them I would discuss the matter with him. I was under a personal obligation to inform them of our conversation.

Jim said: “That’s fair, but I am surprised that anyone, including Arthur Scargill, would ever think I would become a ‘Judas.’ I could have sold a story during the strike for £250,000, but if I had done that my wish would have been to walk out of this house and be struck dead by a bus. I am a Communist; my loyalty is with the working class. Arthur Scargill is the best leader the miners ever had.” I was convinced of his sincerity only at that stage. He then went on to describe what happened to the article on July 3 and the harassment he had been through since then.

He said he had been on holiday for two weeks before the event. The first intimation he had had was a telephone call from the Sun. In a good class reaction he told them where to get off. He admitted that he had got Arthur’s message, tried to phone him a couple of times and then must have mislaid the personal telephone number. When I asked him: “If, when you were on holiday, you never spoke to the Press and never will, who, in your opinion, did?” His answer was: “I don’t need three guesses.” He named another former NUM employee, who, he said, had often claimed that he would “do” the President.

At this stage I listed a number of rumours that he was alleged to have spread about Arthur’s privileges and personal style of life. His immediate reaction was one of dismay. I reminded Jim that he was like a private secretary who was taken into full confidence, not only by Arthur Scargill but the many, many contacts and friends that had to be made to secure the wherewithal to sustain the year-long strike. Any breach of confidence, either about union business or about one’s personal style of life could and almost certainly would mean the Press would use it for ulterior political motives which would result in many good friends of the NUM facing political and personal consequences.

After nearly two hours’ discussion I put the following propositions to him: a) I understand you left in a spirit of good relationship with Arthur Scargill; that you and Elaine (Jim’s wife) had a meal with Arthur and Anne Scargill and he expressed his gratitude for your ten years’ loyal service to the NUM and presented you with a watch to express his gratitude; b) that you and Arthur had spoken to each other since you left the Union and at no time did you suggest that you had been badly treated.

Jim’s reply was definitely “Yes.” I then put forward another proposition regarding Jim’s assurance that he had been set up by the other former employee whose name he had mentioned. I suggested that the Mirror article was libellous and that he should consider suing the paper for damages. I told him this would not cost him anything as he would be defending the name of his Union. I got a cool reception. He claimed if it became known that he had voluntarily accepted severance payment and had been offered another job he could be in difficulty with Social Security as he was in receipt of unemployment benefit as a redundant person. I told him he was all right. His dilemma arose from a request he had made to Mick Clapham, his Union representative, that he should be considered for redundancy payment under one of the three criteria for severance payment, namely that there was genuine job reduction and that he would not be replaced. He admitted Arthur Scargill didn’t put any pressure on him, but he was finding it difficult to adapt to other forms of work and working hours. Arthur was no longer on the TUC and the Coal Board was not talking to the NUM, so his old job as chauffeur was no longer a full-time post.

My second proposition was that he and I should get together with Arthur Scargill to discuss the issue. His immediate reaction was there was nothing to discuss and that the proposition suggested that I didn’t trust him. I said: “No, I trust you, but I want to see you and Arthur resume the kind of comradely relationship you have had since the days I first met both of you over 30 years ago.” I then asked him if he would meet Arthur. His reply was: “Certainly.” I told him that I had promised to phone Arthur and make arrangements and he said it would be fine any night except Tuesday. I phoned Arthur and told him Jim would call him and make the necessary arrangements. This never happened and when Arthur phoned me, enquiring about Jim’s phone call, he said: “He has no intention of meeting me.”

I must say that by this time I was having my doubts reinforced by the fact that Jim was reluctant to sue for damages, using the excuse of voluntary and not compulsory redundancy. As time went on, there was a further discussion with Jim about the minutes of his union which showed that he asked to be considered for severance payment under the third condition, “genuine job reduction”, and about his aggressive reaction to the question I put to him: “Would you sign a statement for the union lawyers that you were not sacked or axed. He had replied: “I don’t trust Mick Clapham, Dave Feickhert or Brian Parkin, and in no way will I go into court with them.” There is an old saying: “Those who live in lass houses should not throw stones.” I was now convinced that I had been taken for a ride.

Now the cat was out of the bag. Both Terry Pattinson, industrial correspondent and Roy Greenslade, the Editor of the “Mirror”, shed more light on who was telling the truth. “I have been working on the Scargill story for seven months” said Terry Pattinson. Roy Greenslade claims that Roger Windsor and Jim Parker had been under contract to the “Mirror”, that “The figure mentioned in the Press is £100,000 between them.” A bit short of the £250,000 Jim was offered during the strike.

The union he appears to have been prepared to betray gave him many years of an easy number and a golden handshake of £20,000 after only ten years’ service. That’s more than the Coal Board gave to many redundant miners. Maybe such a person is not concerned about any principles. The blood money he got came from a crook and a thief, who stole it from innocent pensioners. Surely now is the time to say enough harm has been done. Hand back the filthy blood money to the Mirror Group Pension Scheme and at least be able to sleep at night. I doubt that he has the guts to do it, though.

campaign of vilification by the media, particularly the crook Maxwell’s Daily Mirror, but following exhaustive enquiries by the Inland Revenue and the Fraud Squad they have both now been given a clean bill of health.

It has now been accepted that secret accounts set up to avoid sequestration and receivership during the strike were valid trusts and not the property of the NUM as was claimed by Gavin Lightman QC. The Inland Revenue has accepted that all money has been accounted for and loans repaid. The other allegation, originally made by the Daily Mirror and Central TV’s Cook Report, that Scargill and Heathfield directed a £1 million Soviet donation to a trust fund to build up the Miners Trade Union International for their own personal use has also been disproved.

The archives in the former Soviet Union have been opened and reveal that in 1985 Mikhail Gorbachev himself personally signed an authorisation for the payment of the money to Warsaw for the use of all miners affiliated to the Miners Trade Union International. Surely it is time the new leadership of the Labour Party accepted these same truths and turned its back on the vindictive campaign waged by some of its own MPs that saw even loyal members like Ken Homer being persecuted. Ken Capstick found himself a victim also and he has kindly written something of his experience for me to include here:

“The Hemsworth Selection” By Ken Capstick

“It was during the summer and autumn of 1991 that Neil Kinnock’s

vindictiveness towards the National Union of Mineworkers reached its

zenith. In June he associated himself clearly with the Daily Mirror

smear campaign against Scargill and Heathfield by making presentations to the three journalists involved at the British Press Awards and at the same time allowing himself to be photographed with them.

This prompted an emergency resolution to the NUM Annual Conference

in early July, in the name of the Yorkshire Area, expressing “Profound

disgust” at Kinnock’s actions. I was the Yorkshire Area Vice Chairman and I moved the resolution in the Winter Gardens at Blackpool. As I did so Kinnock himself was speaking to the Transport and General Workers’ Conference being held in the same building. Yorkshire’s resolution was carried unanimously. Kinnock must have been extremely angry and his actions over the next few months demonstrated an immaturity that was inconsistent with intelligent political leadership.

In September 1991 the NUM sponsored MP for the safe mining seat of

Hemsworth, George Buckley, sadly died, creating a by-election. In the first week of October, during the Labour Party Conference , which took place at Brighton, the process of choosing an NUM nominee began. It was also at this Conference that Ken Homer, the highly respected General Secretary of the NUM’s Yorkshire Area, who sat on the Labour Party’s Conference Arrangements Committee, was removed from that Committee in what reeked of a conspiracy. Homer’s vote, after being a consistent 5 million, suddenly plummeted to around 2.5 million.

After the Conference the NUM nominated me as their choice for Hemsworth. I had been born in the constituency and I enjoyed the support of five major unions and five out of the ten constituency branches. The Labour leadership could not miss this opportunity to take a further swipe at the NUM. Labour’s by-election rules allow for the Party’s NEC to choose a shortlist and, regardless of my overwhelming local support, a shortlist of four was announced which excluded me.

The General Management Committee in Hemsworth was livid and rejected the NEC shortlist by 56 votes to 11. The short-listing panel then imposed on this loyal mining constituency a candidate who was a headmaster, a loyal Kinnock supporter and a de-selected Euro MP with very little support in the Constituency Party.

The vindictive attitude to the NUM was an insult to the most loyal of unions and its membership who had voted by 92% to pay the political levy to support the Labour Party.

The NUM, however, had its day. In Sunderland North another re-selection took place where the by-election rules could not be used. Sunderland North decided upon Bill Etherington, the North East Area NUM Vice President. Although Bill Etherington was popular in the area many were of the view that the Hemsworth episode further enhanced his chances, ensuring that this able left-wing miner was returned to Parliament.

Ken Capstick

Ken Capstick’s treatment and experience was disgraceful and I for one hope that the Labour Party will refrain from such affairs in future. Victimising people for being friendly with Scargill is plain stupid politics as well as being unjust. I am sure John Smith, when he reads this book, as he will, must, like his predecessor in his Scottish constituency, Margaret Herbison, recall the help the Labour Party had from the Watters family of Shotts who helped to rescue North Lanark from the Tories. I know, too, that John Smith himself received the same sort of support from a younger generation of Watters. Vindictiveness and character assassination should never be practised in the Labour movement when differences emerge. The “Dream Ticket” team of Kinnock and Hattersley presided over the Labour Party when some of its leading members joined in the witch-hunt against the NUM. One who became involved was the NUM sponsored MP for Rother Valley, Kevin Barron, who has since been expelled from the union for passing on information from the NUM National Executive without authorisation. He has now been rightly removed as Labour’s parliamentary spokesman on the coal industry.

In 1984 the Sunday Times ran a story: “Pits will not go private.” It purported to represent government and Coal Board thinking at the very time that they were preparing for the massive cutback in capacity that provoked the 1984/85 strike. Now, at least, they are out in the open and their intentions are known. That should be the signal for all groupings within the NUM to abandon their petty factionalism and unite behind their leader to defeat the privatisation plans. Privatisation is not inevitable but it will take a determined, united campaign to defeat it. It was perhaps a forlornm hope but I genuinely meant it when I said in the 1992 edition that I called on George Bolton to use his influence on the

‘Left’-Centre-Right alliance in the NUM to persuade them, too. I will close by making a genuine appeal to the likes of George Bolton to use their influence to aid the process of unity in this fight against privatisation.

******************************************************************

Chapter 26

“Life moves on – I marry again”

A highly romantic story

It came as no great surprise to me that sooner or later the Soviet people, especially the young people, would not tolerate isolation from the rest of the world. I personally had a belly full of their stupid bureaucracy over an invitation I extended to a Soviet citizen, who is now my wife, to visit me in the UK.

I met Esta Meltser in Bulgaria in the late 1970s, following the death of my first wife. We shared holidays together both in Bulgaria and in the Soviet Union. Esta was an English teacher and during the miners’ strike her pupils asked what they could do for the British miners and their families.

We thought of an idea that they should send Christmas cards expressing solidarity with the miners’ children and a huge parcel full of them duly arrived at the Yorkshire miners’ headquarters. Owen Briscoe agreed it was a wonderful gesture on the part of the Soviet youngsters, but was a bit puzzled as to what he should do with them now they had arrived. I said that would be no problem as I knew of schools in Barnsley where pupils were studying Russian and the cards were distributed amongst them.

As a result of her involvement, Esta was invited as a guest of the Yorkshire Miners to their centenary gala in 1986, but then the Soviet bureaucrats stepped in and stopped her leaving her home in Sverdlovsk (now called Ekaterinburg). Worse, Mikhail Shrebny, one of the Soviet miners’ leaders, tried to use the episode as an excuse to engineer an invitation for himself. It was only after prolonged wrangling which is all too depressing to relate, which involved the Soviet bureaucracy right up to the level of their ambassador in London, that Esta was finally allowed to travel in 1989, when we were married in Barnsley.

Our marriage was a grand affair. Just as I had ensured my daughter’s wedding was a grand assembly of good friends, musical talent and working class cuisine! I am not an organiser for nothing – there have never been many perks to my job. It was pleasant that, because Arthur and I are such close friends and comrades, the media was so interested in our wedding. Particularly, for Esta, who was overwhelmed with the kindness and enthusiasm shown to her by so many people. Even the Yorkshire regional TV magazine programme “Calendar” devoted several minutes to a special report of what, I suppose, can only be called a highly romantic story. Well – two people in their twilight years, deserving of the close companionship that being man and wife implies; set apart by bureaucracy and brought together by the magical efforts of a well-known “personality”. It was a good story and I have to admit a good thing that happened to me.

Pic: Frank, always ready for new challenges – learning to swim for the very first time at the age of 67.

Changing one’s personal lifestyle so late in life is difficult. It was difficult when aged 36, I married for the first time. It was difficult when aged 56, I found myself a widower. Aged 69, I married again and, for a fair few years, Esta stayed with me, eventually returning to Russia to be nearer her own family; we have kept in touch and I have no regrets. Even with all the problems that married life inevitably brings, I can say that I have been truly blessed. Not once, but twice.

Chapter 27: By way of an epilogue

So, there it is – my story so far. I hear people say that they are sorry for Communists, having spent a lifetime in pursuit of an illusion. But after all these years I still feel sorry for people who have not had what Harry Pollitt used to call the “shining light of socialism” to guide them. Nor have I any shame for a “cowardly and useless past”, as Ostrokovsky would have it. “All my life and all my strength” was exerted for good not evil.

Pic: Harry Pollitt, long-term General Secretary of the

Communist Party; Frank always kept this favourite portrait of the man he most highly regarded throughout his life handy to him.

Like the Christian who argues that the message in the “Good Book” is the truth about his faith, not the cowardly antics of those who have called themselves Christian, I believe that the essential message of Marx, Engels and Lenin has validity. Christianity has to look the Spanish Inquisition in the eye, as Marxism has to account for Stalin’s purges. Christianity has seen far more splinters, factions, schisms, rows and alternative centres of authority than Marxism. Not much more, but more certainly! Roman Catholics today rarely defend Francisco Franco’s butchery in Spain, even though his murderous actions were committed in their name. Equally, I do not defend the worst excesses of Marxists carried out in the name of Communism.

But I do defend the record of British Communists. We have much to be proud of. We were against the First World War when it was not fashionable to be so; we fought unemployment imaginatively, leading a mass movement; we founded a daily paper and kept it going, even to this day; we opposed Fascism most courageously; we played a part in the trade union movement unequalled by any other section; we campaigned for world peace and against nuclear war, when it was difficult to do; we pioneered cultural alternatives to the establishment in science, art, history, literature; we struggled for freedom in the colonies and opposed racism when others dare not; we gave sustenance and support to all in struggle, whether it was 1921 and 1926, or 1972 and 1984/85, whether it was miners or nurses, always unhesitatingly; we brought organisation, discipline, professionalism, a sense of duty, vision, subtlety and a grasp of the tension between tactics and strategy, wherever we went and to all movements in which we were involved.

Above all we were audacious. No one can take that away from us. As Robespierre had it, “L’audace, l’audace, l’audace.” Boldness Forever! It is not for me to rubbish such qualities. Others are quicker to point out the failings of the CPGB! Let them do that and let me point out my pride in seventy years of sacrifice and toil. Great movements, great ideologies have a life of their own, as surely as their adherents do. I remain an atheist, a logical man. I reject superstition and dogma alike, but socialism, communism and Marxism ought not to be, and never were dogmas or superstitions. My beliefs are coloured by centuries of struggle, intertwined with logical, scientific assessment of the world about us; whether that is self-assessment or assessment of systems, nations and movements.

It is fashionable for commentators in the ‘Independent’ or the ‘Guardian’ to wonder whether ‘society’ is dead, history is dead, or whether socialism is dead. These ponderings are trite and fallacious. Humanity will always strive for betterment; a betterment for all, to boot. It is in our nature to be gregarious, concerned for others. Forms of society and governments come and go; the battle for social concern being waged in those societies in ways which reflect and mould the character of the world as it is at the time. The making of history goes on. Lessons of struggle are passed on generation unto generation.

My generation knew poverty, repression and war. Hard times occasioned harsh responses. The Communist Party, as it was, came about as the organised expression of the best instincts of the British working class and its allies.

Those instincts have seen expression before. This year is the 350th Anniversary of the outbreak of the English Civil War. Without the heroism and sacrifice of the ordinary folk in the New Model Army, Britain would never have been able to become what, in its better moments, it can be. The enormous debt the world owes to the French liberationists in internationalising the very concept of freedom was by no means lost on Britain. Progressive politics in this country were born out of the crucible of the struggles which these two great social upheavals jointly characterise.

The creation of a British Working Class in the Industrial Revolution took place against the backcloth of such traditions. Critics of the USSR forget that Britain became a modern country by savagery and brutality of the worst kind. No one knows exactly how many died in the creation of our canals and railways, or in the gigantic population movements which saw the birth of our cities.

That working class has experienced a long and difficult road to the present day. Trade Unionism and revolutionary politics are deep-seated phenomena. The struggle has often veered between industrial and political tactics and strategies. Early trade unionism gave sustenance to Chartism, the most successful single issue campaign ever, which virtually created Britain as a democratic country. Afterwards Model Unions were created, with efficient organisational structures, and the notion spread to the unskilled in the New Unionism of the turn of the Century. Syndicalists like Tom Mann, later a great Communist, strove for effective, militant unions. Workers rightly struggled to have their voice in Parliament.

This century has been dominated by the politics of war and empire. Our very own shop stewards movement owes its origins to this fact, as did the Communist Party. Clearly, the Bolshevik Revolution was a turning point for socialism. It signalled that struggle need not be blind or doomed. Success was and is possible, even if it is not permanent! In that sense, the 70-year history of Communism is as valid, more so in fact, than the two decades or so each of Jacobinism, Luddism, Owenism, Chartism, Model Unionism, New Unionism and Syndicalism.

As movements fade away, they re-emerge in new conditions, with new objectives but similar motives. Just like families, new blood comes in; births, deaths and marriages take place. The family tree of British radicalism is broad and deep. But it is truly sturdy.

Pic: Frank was intensely proud of his most immediate family and this was his favourite picture of them, taken in 1992 at a Miners’ Gala in Yorkshire, the year Frank’s book was published.

Decades on, his grandchildren, Ben Stevenson and Joanne Stevenson, are no longer small children (!) but leading figures in their own right in the British Communist movement.

Frank’s daughter, Lesley, and son-in-law, Graham are also in the picture.

What will come next? Ah, that’s another story, and you had best ask my grandchildren in 25 years time. They will know and I know that my life and my work will be part and parcel of the great changes and struggles that the 21st Century will see unfold. The seeds are already well sown; fear not, those of you who are uncertain and confused.

Whatever the politics of ordinary people is called, however left-wing radicalism takes shape, it will never leave us. Its origins are too deep in the experience of the nations which make up the British Isles. I think that I can genuinely look back on a lifetime which equals that of Communism itself, seven decades or so, and say that, in no small way, I contributed to that rich experience.

Disillusioned? Never! I was never “illusioned” in the first place; only fired with determination to do right by my own kind, as they say, in my own way. Being Frank Watters has meant being frank with my friends and enemies. Being Frank Watters has meant being fearless. This record of that experience has been a contribution to that endeavour – but I assure you, by no means my last!!!

Below: the obituary on Frank in the Guardian, 12th August 2002 – some minor inaccuracies arose from the peculiar demands of the paper’s house style and eccentric editing! A potted biography is available elsewhere on this site.

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THE EARLY DAYS 1. Introduction 2. 17th Century Democrats 3. The crowd in action 4. Lead Mining in Derbyshire 5. From Guild to Union 6. The Woolcombers 7. Framework Knitting 8. Cotton Mills 9. The [...]